NEW Y0R1
poblic library!
A«T9R, LENOX ANB TIL»EN FOWNMTI»N«.
(o.
f /s /* r /
/,
/ /* /tr'/tfj/'f.
or.
vry
*
vrro
/,
A
t?7l r/"J ' /rsr///////* * /// //f /'r/:jf//y sy //'.J rf s/A f/ff '/
ffff//
frsr//, * ffs/y ///syry/A
// / // /A/' // A f/ // r/j'rrr / ^ / /
sr
PROCEEDINGS and ADDRESSES
AT THE
Complimentary Dinner
TENDERED TO
DR. A. JACOBI
ON THE OCCASION OF THE
Seventieth Anniversary of his Birthday
MAT FIVE, NINETEEN HUNDRED
if
'OX AND I
J
COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS
[AND " FESTSCHRIFT " COMMITTEE ]
Arpad G. Gerster, M.D. Joseph D. Bryant, M.D. Willy Meyer, M.D.
Floyd H. Crandall, M.D. Barnim Schaulau, M.D.
Francis Huber, M.D. Frederic E. Sondern, M.D.
CONTENTS
Page INTRODUCTORY NOTE 7
ADDRESS OF DR. JOSEPH D. BRYANT, Chairman . . //
POEM OP DR. S. WEIR MITCHELL 15
ADDRESS OP DR. WILLIAM H. THOMSON . 16
ADDRESS OP DR. WILLIAM OSLER 21
ADDRESS OF THE HONORABLE SETH LOW . . .26
ADDRESS OP THE HONORABLE CARL SCHURZ . 30
PRESENTATION OP THE " J A COB I FESTSCHRIFT" . 36
ADDRESS OF DR. JACOB I 39
LETTERS AND TELEGRAMS RECEIVED . S7
SUBSCRIBERS TO THE DINNER 69
DINNER
TO
DR. A. JACOBI
IN the early part of the year 1900, a General Committee of sixty-nine citizens of New York — physicians and laymen — was formed for the purpose of arranging for a complimentary dinner to be tendered to Dr. A. Jacobi, in celebration of the seventieth anniversary of his birthday, the sixth of May. As announced in the Committee's letter of invitation, it was believed that this would be "a fit occasion for a hearty mani- festation of the esteem in which Dr. Jacobi is held, and for a recognition of the services he has rendered, in various relations — during the course of almost fifty years — as a physician, edu- cator and civic worker." It was felt, also, that such an occasion would afford an appropriate setting for the unusual honor to be paid Dr. Jacobi in the presentation of a "Festschrift,'* comprising original contributions to medical literature, dedi- cated to him by fifty physicians and scientists, including many of the most prominent, in all parts of the world.
The members of the Committee were the fol1 owing :
Robert Abbe, M.D. Felix Adler Samuel P. Avery A. Brayton Ball, M.D. L. Bolton Bangs, M.D. Herman M. Biggs, M.D. Johh Shaw Billings, M.D. Franz Boas A. Von Briesen
Joseph D. Bryant, M.D. William T. Bull, M.D. Clement Cleveland, M.D. Charles Collins Floyd H. Crandall, M.D. Charles L. Dana, M.D. Horace E. Deming William H. Draper, M.D. Edward K. Dunham, M.D.
Charles S. Fairchild George B. Fowler, M.D. A. G. Gerster, M.D. Emil Gruening, M.D. Everett Herrick, M.D. Abram S. Hewitt Henry Holt William Dean Howells Francis Huber, M.D. George W. Jacoby, M.D. Edward G. Janeway, M.D. Joseph E. Janvrin, M.D. Francis P. Kinnicutt, M.D. Percival Knauth Hans Kudlich, M.D. Charles McBurney, M.D. Seth Low
J. W. McLane, M.D. Jacob Meyer Willy Meyer, M.D. Charles D. Noyes, M.D. Oswald Ottendorfer William M. Polk, M.D. T. Mitchell Prudden, M.D. George Haven Putnam
D. B. St. John Roosa, M.D. Julius Rudisch, M.D. Barnim Scharlau, M.D. Jacob H. Schiff, M.D. Carl Schurz Gustav H. Schwab Edwin R. A. Seligman Edward M. Shepard A. A. Smith, M.D. Stephen Smith, M.D. Frederic E. Sondern, M.D. James Speyer Simon Sterne Daniel H. Stimson, M.D. L. A. Stimson, M.D. William L. Strong W. Gilman Thompson, M.D. W. H. Thomson, M.D. Henry Villard Leonard Weber, M.D. Hugo Wesendonck Everett P. Wheeler Horace White A. Wolff John A. Wyeth, M.D.
Charles Huntoon Knight, M.D.
At a meeting of the Committee, held at the Academy of Medicine, March thirty-first, the plan prepared by a previously appointed Committee of Arrangements was approved, includ- ing the choice of Delmonico's as the place for the dinner. At the same meeting, Dr. Joseph D. Bryant was unanimously chosen as presiding officer.
The dinner was given at Delmonico's on the evening of Saturday, May the fifth, and was attended by four hundred and twenty-five of Dr. Jacobi's friends and professional col- leagues. The fact that the full capacity of the banquet hall had been reached, prevented the acceptance of the applications of many others.
8
Dr. Jacobi occupied the seat of honor, at Dr. Bryant's right, and with him at the speaker's table, were the Honorable Seth Low, President of Columbia University; the Honorable Carl Schurz, ex-Secretary of the Interior; the Honorable Charles S. Fairchild, ex- Secretary of the Treasury; the Honor- able Daniel S. Lamont, ex-Secretary of War; Dr. William H. Thomson, President of the Academy of Medicine; the Hon- orable John W. Keller, Commissioner of Charities in New York City ; Dr. William Osier, of Johns Hopkins University ; Dr. Edward J. Janeway ; the Honorable Isaac Townsend Smith ; Dr. William H. Welch, of Philadelphia; Mr. Horace White, Editor of the Evening Post ; Dr. Thomas M. Rotch, of Boston; Dr. John Shaw Billings, and Mr. Joseph Larocque. The names of those others who were present — constituting a com- pany remarkable alike for its representative and its distin- guished character — are given in full in the list of subscribers printed at the end of this volume.
Preliminary to the order of speaking, and following the Chairman's opening address, a large number of congratulatory letters and telegrams were read by the Secretary of the Ar- rangements Committee, Dr. Sondern, the senders including many organizations and individuals in both Europe and America. At this point in the proceedings a dedicatory poem by Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, of Philadelphia,— " To Abraham Jacobi, Medicus, Magister, Amicus," — was also presented ; Dr. Mitchell being absent in the South, the verses were read by Mr. Robert Underwood Johnson, Associate Editor of The Century.
The set addresses were devoted to particular phases of Dr. Jacobi's career. Dr. Thomson spoke of the guest of the evening as "The Physician "; Dr. Osier, as "The Scientist"; President Low, "In Relation to Medical Education "; and Mr. Schurz, as "The Citizen." These addresses follow in full and need no analysis. They form in their sequence a tribute to a successful and eminently helpful life and work, as rare in its earnestness and in its completeness as has ever been paid to an American physician.
Following the speaking, the " Festschrift," was presented by Dr. Gerster, Chairman of the " Festschrift " Committee.
The volume handed to Dr. Jacobi was a richly bound copy of the collection edited and printed under the Committee's direc- tion. It contained fifty-three papers, treating a great diversity of medical subjects and contributed by scientific representa- tives of eleven nations. The presentation of resolutions from the staffs of the Mount Sinai and the German Hospital fol- lowed, and the proceedings were concluded with Dr. Jacobi's response. His address, which, also, is given in full in the fol- lowing pages, was at once a survey of the matters covered by those who had spoken and a fine expression of appreciation.
10
ADDRESS OF DR. JOSEPH D. BRYANT, Chairman.
Ladies, Gentlemen and Distinguished Guests :
THE reasons for our presence here this evening require of your presiding officer no special words of explanation. Every participant in the spirit of the occasion within this spacious hall, and many without, whose presence we are denied, fully comprehend the significance of the event.
How fortunate indeed it is, in the affairs of this life, that worthy and well-directed efforts, addressed to the secure- ment of personal and public betterment, frequently beget, though ofttimes somewhat tardily, the sentiments of abiding confidence and esteem for those who prudently proclaim their importance, and diligently labor for their attainment. The opportunities for achievements of this nature are everywhere present and so conspicuously clothed as to invite prompt recognition.
The declaration of the fact that he whom we now honor has throughout his career proved a vigilant and effective expo- nent of scientific advance and public excellence, suggests no denial, and venerates the occasion.
I believe, however, that it should be recognized at the outset that the observances of the evening are not devoted more to the learned gentleman, whom we so much delight to honor, than to the recognition of those ennobling virtues of which he is the embodiment, and which, when practised with faithful exactness, make of us better men, better citizens, and thereby establish a better world.
The notable examples of the beneficent labors of our esteemed friend, in the exercise of his professional skill and fraternal devotion, are singularly akin to each other in their inception and in their spirit.
ii
In the one example he dedicated, through various channels of bounty, the full measure of his professional sagacity and fervor, to the alleviation and cure of the suffering incident to freedom of individual birth. In the other we are taught by the history of his fatherland that he bestowed a like measure of patriotic zeal to liberty's cause, fostering the birth of individual freedom !
To the former service the ripe abundance of his years has been given, to the latter the richness of his youth was well nigh sacrificed ; with both, his name is indelibly recorded as the wise physician and the uncompromising patriot.
Numberless hapless poor of the common sphere of life mingle their joy with that of those of higher station, in acknowledgment of the bountiful aid and comfort experienced at his hands.
Medical thought and medical progress, here and abroad, bear abundant evidence of the potent influence on their status of the products of his studious, logical mind. Thousands of physicians, while students in medicine, and at bedside con- sultation, have gained inspiration and comfort from his teachings and advice in a degree equalled only by that of the fortunate recipients of his professional ministrations.
All along the avenue of commendable professional endeavor, directed to the attainment of proper public recogni- tion, of increased knowledge and esprit, are noted exalted pro- ductions, to the achievement of which he contributed an untir- ing energy, guided at all times by sincere executive thought.
The justice of this statement is witnessed by the signifi- cant presence of the New York Academy of Medicine and its library, and further emphasized by the fact that, in the late effort to increase the latter, he supplemented a previous bountiful contribution by the major part of the recent gain.
The patriotic zeal of his early life was an earnest of his devotion to public duty during the later, and in neither instance has the cry of distress gone unheeded, while in both the weak have been strengthened, the wavering encouraged, and the justice of a cause assured by his word and presence. What he was to those of noble aspirations of the land of his birth, he has been and is to those of the land of his adoption.
12
Such as this, my friends, is something of the record of him whom we honor this evening, more of which, however, will be told by those whose co-operative experience and comradeship permit of completer and profounder utterance than my oppor- tunity or knowledge affords.
I am prompted, however, to say to Dr. Abraham Jacobi himself : Though thy years be three score and ten, and each re- plete with a glorious harvest, so well hast thou performed thy useful missions, that we do hope and pray that life's Scriptural allotment of time may be long extended for thee, that not only the example for good shall remain, but good itself be corres- pondingly multiplied.
13
REMARKS OF MR. ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON
INTRODUCTORY TO THE READING OF DR. MITCHELL'S POEM.
Mr. Chairman and Friends of Dr. Jacobi:
1AM at a loss to know to what I am indebted for the honor of being- the medium of conveying this gracious mes- sage from one beloved physician to another, both ripe in all the honors that their own profession can bestow. Perhaps it is because, as an editor, I may be supposed to represent that branch of the medical profession which deals with literary sur- gery. The importance of this branch of the profession is cer- tainly not to be ignored, when Columbia University, in its expansiveness, has given the degree of B.A. , — which formerly indicated literary excellence, — the new significance of Bachelor of Automobiles! So by all means let Columbia establish the new degree of D. L. S. The Doctor of Literary Surgery, let us observe, has his patients, his out-door patients — patients, indeed, to judge from their number, from all out-doors. He, too, must look attentively at the tongue — the mother-tongue — of his patients, and must consider the dull aspect of their Fs; he must address himself with the sharpened tool of his pro- fession— the blue pencil — to the excrescences caught from the contagion of the French decadents, and prescribe for the sluggish current of a narrative clogged by the accumulated dust of realism. The difference between the Doctor of Literary Surgery, and his confrere in good and regular stand- ing is that, while the former must feel that the body he is working on is worth saving, the latter — with a larger measure of divine pity — thinks none of his suffering brothers or sisters unworthy of his devotion.
I would gladly preface the reading of this admirable trib- ute by some token of my own appreciation of the respect in which I bear our distinguished guest, but in twenty-five years of experience in dealing with literary expression, I have yet to know what words would be appropriate or adequate to set forth my gratitude to the man to whose wise skill and tender care, under heaven, I owe the life of a child.
M
ABRAHAM JACOBI.
Medicus, Magister, Amicus.
NO honors hath the State for you whose life From youth to age has known one single end. Take from our lips two well-won titles now, " Magister et Amicus " — Master, Friend.
From the gray summit of attainment you Look on the rugged path you knew to climb.
Take, with our thanks, for high example set The palm of honor in this festal time.
Constant and brave, in no ignoble cause, The hopes of freedom armed thy sturdy youth ;
As true and brave in the maturer years Thy ardent struggle in the cause of truth.
Nor prison bars, nor yet the lonely cell,
Could break thy vigor of unconquered will ;
And the gray years which build as cruel walls Have found and left thee ever victor still.
Ave Magister ! take from us to-night
The well-earned praise of all who love our art
For this long lesson of unending work,
For strength of brain and precious wealth of heart.
Your busy hand gives much ; but, oh, far more,
The gallant soul that teaches how to meet Unfriended exile, sorrow, want, and all
That crush the weak with failure and defeat.
We gave you here a home ; you well have paid With many gifts proud freedom's generous hand,
That bade you largely breathe a freer air And made you welcome to a freer land.
Ave Amice ! if around this board
Are they who watched you through laborious years, Beyond these walls, in many a grateful home,
Your step dismissed a thousand pallid fears.
That kindly face, that gravely tender look,
Through darkened hours how many a mother knew !
And in that look won sweet reprieve of hope,
Sure that all earth could give was there with you.
Ave Magister ! Many be the years
That lie before thee, thronged with busy hours ! Ave Amice ! take our earnest prayer That all their ways fair Fortune strew with flowers.
S. WEIR MITCHELL, 15
"DR. JACOBI THE PHYSICIAN.
ADDRESS OF DR. WILLIAM H. THOMSON.
AFTER I had accepted the Committee's request to speak to this toast — Dr. Jacobi as a physician, — I soon found myself utterly bewildered by the question how I should do it, solely on account of a little proposition which entered into the case. It is easy enough to speak about Dr. Jacobi as a physi- cian, but to speak to him on this topic — that is, with him pres- ent— called for a special skill in saying things, for which I have no pretensions whatever. I would do it by the hour, if I could speak in a language once native to me — the Arabic. In Ara- bic I would tell him to his face that he was like the mighty lion, like the graceful gazelle, the crushing thunderbolt, the efful- gent sun. In the words of the poet I would exclaim — with the certainty, however, that when I got through, that he knew that I did not mean a word that I said. But our awkward English is the last language on earth to help one say what he does not mean. What I am going to say now, therefore, I mean every word of it, be the consequences what they may.
When I came to this city, now thirty-eight years ago, I knew about Dr. Jacobi already, for his and Dr. Noeggerath's work on Diseases of Children, had greatly raised my expecta- tions as to the manner of man he must be. But when I came to hear him talk to a company of New York physicians, it be- came a lesson to me afterwards to beware of first impressions. Somehow his remarks struck me as betraying a consciousness that he was a sort of stray archangel, who had allowed the fates to let him mingle among us for awhile. But the truth was he was immensely above the majority of his auditors in one element of medical knowledge. Those were days when our medical colleges turned out doctors by scores and hun- dreds who would not now pass a first year's examination. I
16
once sat by a fellow alumnus who did not know that the caro- tid arose from the aorta, and another who when asked about the uterine arteries, said that they arose in the female. It is difficult now to speak with patience about the facility with which the crowds of all-round ignoramuses would then gradu- ate from our medical colleges, on account of the system which obliged each institution to depend solely on the fees of stu- dents for its support.
There was therefore nothing which the profession of this country needed at that time so much as an object lesson of the high value of a university education to a medical man. The great majority of our students took up the study of medicine as they would learn a trade, and the sooner they could get at it as a livelihood, the better. That the service, and the art of medicine as well, required not only original mental equip- ment, but also a previous mental training to be measured only by years of thorough and varied exercise and disci- pline, such as a university education alone can impart, was but little appreciated. Such a long and trying preliminary was regarded as altogether too slow for pushing Americans to have any patience for. A common school education was supposed to be enough, and then two winter courses of lectures at most, sometimes less even than that, and in which the sec- ond course was just the same as the first, — this and nothing more comprised the entire period of alma mater's gestation, and she brought forth her motley progeny.
To demonstrate the utter and absurd inadequacy of such a system of producing physicians needed that a Dr. Jacobi should be in evidence as a contrast. It is to him, and to others like him, who have brought from their native Europe their personal demonstration that there is no short cut to a scientific training, that the American profession owes a debt of gratitude, and this is a fit occasion to acknowledge it. Now, at last, it is widely recognized that the first class physician must also be a first class scholar ; that only the scholarly mind can grasp the immense mass of pure science which medicine demands of every one of her votaries ; and finally, that it is well worth all the time and patience and effort to become a scholar first, and a physician afterwards ; look to Jacobi.
i7
But I am to speak of Jacobi as a physician. Well, my shortest way to do that is to recall my impressions of him when a physician once called us both in consultation on a case of pneumonia. After a series of questions about the history of the case, which no lawyer could excel for inquisitiveness, Dr. Jacobi took his seat close to the patient, and then proceeded to gaze at him with a gravity, a fixity, and a prolonged pause of solemn silence which made him appear as a perfect human picture of the old bird of Minerva lighted by the bedside. He then felt his pulse, with the same expression on his face of in- finite profundity. Then he evidently was counting the respi- rations as watchfully as a miser would his dollars. And then he went through a most systematic course of physical exami- nation of heart and lungs, whose thoroughness was only equalled by its gentleness.
Now, if there be one thing particularly trying to our inner man when thus engaged with a colleague, it is to find out, on comparison of views, how much better he has observed than we have, or how much better he had observed what we also thought we had observed. The pinch lies in the fact that he who really beats in observation is the better man of the two.
From Hippocrates down, the masters with us have been great observers. And this I can say of Jacobi as a physician, — that not only is he one of the greatest observers that I ever met, but that he excels in the still more difficult accomplishment of forcing ... to wait humbly and patiently as a servant on observation, not presuming to speak till observation permits.
But there is another side in Dr. Jacobi's life as a physician which I am entitled to speak of. We, both of us, have passed through a period in the history of medicine more marked by changes and advances in medical knowledge than in any pre- vious period whatever.
Now, adequately to encounter such crises in knowledge requires an intellectual flexibility which is congenitally denied to many men, while with others such flexibility rapidly declines as they advance in years. Now, firmness of conviction is better than instability of conviction, but that, better than all, is that Damascus-blade-like, mental quality, in which the mind can be bent at will in any direction desired, and yet surpass every-
18
thing else in its own intrinsic and marvelous cohesion. In Dr. Jacobi's case the pace of medical progress has never been too fast nor too great for him to find it hard to bend his mind to complete adaptation to its every turn.
I have known, for example, several of his eminent contem- poraries in the past who till their dying day could not perfectly adapt their minds to the role of micro-organisms in disease. But the long list of Dr. Jacobi's works and contributions reflect everywhere all the phases of medical progress and discovery since he became a physician. To pass through such a period as Dr. Jacobi has done, and to be found always abreast of the stream, neither stranded on its banks, nor carried in its eddies, is a remarkable testimony to the innate strength of his under- standing.
But equally so has he shown that he possesses the inesti- mable faculty of sound judgment, for the fact is that great discoveries in medicine never come forth without being the occasion, somehow, of the birth of many temporary and yet mis- chievous fallacies. When the god ^Eolus gave to Ulysses the bag in which were tied up all the undesirable winds which would prevent his reaching Ithaca, Ulysses, soon after em- barking, unhappily took a nap ; whereupon his stupid com- panions thought they would find out what treasures were tied up in the bag. They loosened the string, and out rushed all the winds together, to poor Ulysses' abiding grief. So it often seems that we cannot gain some good new breeze, which car- ries our ship in her right course, ere a set of airy theorists are let loose upon us, each with a separate blow of his own, which requires a clear-headed pilot fully to cope with. And for this I can say, if any one wants to know what the latest gust of wind amounts to, refer him to Jacobi.
Finally, I cannot close talking about Jacobi as a physician without a word about him as a friend. He and I have known each other for over thirty years. During that time, our medi- cal body politic, like every other living body, has occasionally shown some pathological symptoms. In our studies on micro- organisms, we sometimes find kinds which secrete a sticky exudation, which enables them to clump together, or even to form little rings, which give rise to wretched troubles by
x9
their clogging up important channels, which ought to contain something much better than they. Now, every one of us can say that there has never been anything zooglitic about Jacobi. He has always been the independent, and always clearly rec- ognizable man, Abraham Jacobi, and one whose place on any question, which involved honor or fair dealing, could unhesi- tatingly be told beforehand. As an old friend, therefore, who has had many occasions to experience his worth and steadfast- ness, I rejoice at this opportunity of congratulating him on the happy event of this evening, the most memorable of any in the history of the New York profession of medicine.
20
" THE SCIENTIST."
ADDRESS OF DR. WILLIAM OSLER.
GIBBON very wisely says that the only one person capable of passing a correct judgment upon the works of an individual is the author himself. Who knows so well as he the merit of the performance; who so interested in them? Fully agreeing, as every author should, with this authoritative state- ment, I must begin with an apology to Dr. Jacobi for an attempt to usurp his function, but under the circumstances he will forgive me.
A first and most surprising impression in a review of our friend's literary work is its very modest amount — only three or four volumes and some sixty major monographs and essays. Knowing the encyclopedic character of the man, how com- mendable seems this moderation ! The first publication against his name is the Bonn thesis, 1851, " Cogitatio?ies de Vita Rerum Naturalium." I doubt if Dr. Jacobi could now appre- ciate the Cogitationes. The thesis, which is modest only in size, has all the dogmatic freshness of the production of a youth of one-and-twenty. The conclusion of the whole matter is given in a few brief lines at the close: " Nil extra naturam, nil extra materia leges " and there is a third and concluding phrase which I refrain from quoting. It is interesting to note so early in his career the influence of the great master, Ru- dolph Virchow, from whose writings several quotations are given. With one phrase I remember to have been caught years ago: " Die Wissenschaften und der Glaube schliessen sick aus." Science and faith have nothing to do with each other, and only worry comes from a neglect of that strong statement by Tennyson of their essential divergence :
" We have but Faith, we cannot know; For Knowledge is of things we see."
21
Then comes the most impressive period in our author's life — silence for seven or eight years, during which I can find in indexes and catalogues nothing against either his name or his reputation. It is unique, almost, in the literary history of our profession. Would that this more than Pythagorean period of self-restraint could be emulated to-day ! But think of the deso- lation to editors if all the graduates of all the schools of all these States thought and worked, but did not write for seven years after their graduation !
In this audience it seems almost superfluous to speak of the professional writings of Dr. Jacobi. Of his larger works, the " Diphtheria " monograph and the " Treatise on the Ther- apeutics of Infancy and Childhood," have been guides and counselors to thousands of physicians all over the land. No- where has there been a better student of diphtheria or a sounder exponent of the subject than Abraham Jacobi. One of his earliest works, the contributions in connection with Dr. Noeg- gerath, I could not find. Dr. Jacobi mentioned the other night in Washington that it had cost them about a thousand dollars to publish them. I understand that it has disappeared absolutely. It is not known whether Dr. Jacobi possesses copies, nor is it known how much it cost the authors to buy up the en- tire edition, which is the only possible explanation of its rarity.
Of the monographs and special articles, I should like to speak at length were there time, particularly of the splendid contributions upon the intestinal disorders of children. The monograph on the thymus gland is a model of careful re- search. You know as well as I of his scholarly and sound con- tributions in the various systems of medicine which have ap- peared frorrf time to time. Of the many occasional addresses, that entitled Non Nocere, before the International Congress at Rome, and the appreciative sketch of Virchow, are models of their kind. I was much interested in one well-worn booklet in the Surgeon-General's Library — the earliest of his contribu- tions in the collection of i860 or 1861 — in which a series of cases is narrated, and in which he gives a statement of how to teach the subject of pediatrics in practical classes in the dis- pensaries. In this he was, I believe, a pioneer in the United States.
22
I come now to what may be considered the most important part of his life's work, that relating- to infant-feeding. It may be said that the safety of a nation depends on the care of its infants, and no one in this country has done so much for their bodily welfare as Dr. Jacobi. Had they any other language but a cry, countless thousands of colic-stricken babes and suck- lings would ordain great praise to him this evening. For more than thirty years we find this problem engaging his closest attention, and he has never tired of urging proper methods upon the profession and the public — methods which have always been characterized by his strong clear sense. There is no single question before this nation to-day of greater im- portance than how to return to natural methods in the nature of infants, and you will pardon me if I here make a slight digression. The neglect of the natural mode is an old story m Anglo- Saxondom. St. Augustine, so Bede tells us, wrote to Pope Gregory complaining that the question of infant-feeding was worrying him not a little. I understand that a systematic effort is to be made to supply to every child born in this land its rightful sustenance for one year at least. Under the auspices of the Pediatric Society and the Woman's Christian Temperance Union, a Woman's Infant-Suckling Union is to be established which will strive to make it a criminal offence against the State to bottle-feed any infant, and which will pro- vide in large and well-equipped sucklingries ample sustenance when a mother from any cause is unable to do her duty. Rotch tells me that the action on the part of the Pediatric Society has been influenced by an exhaustive collective investigation on the future of bottle-fed babies, in which it is clearly shown that intellectual obliquity, moral perversion and special cranki- ness of all kinds result directly from the early warp given to the mind of the child by the gross and unworthy deception to which it is subjected — a deception which extends through many months of the most plastic period of its life.
According to these researches you can tell a bottle-fed man at a glance, or rather at a touch. Feel the tip of his nose. In all sucklings, the physical effects of breast pressure on the nose are not alone evidenced in the manner set forth so graph- ically by Mr. Shandy, but in addition the two cartilages are
23
kept separate and do not join, whereas in bottle-fed babies, in whom there is no pressure on the tip of the nose, these struct- ures rapidly unite, and, in the adult, present to the finger a single sharp outline, entirely different from the split, bifid con- dition in the breast-fed child. The collective investigation dem- onstrates that all silver democrats, many populists, and the cranks of all descriptions have been bottle-fed, and show the characteristic nose tip. Utopian as the scheme may appear (and directly suggested, of course, by Plato), who can question the enormous benefits which would follow the substitution of such sucklingries for the present Walker- Gordon Laborato- ries and other devices — benefits untold to helpless infants; blessings to thousands upon thousands of women whose ener- gies would be directed into their natural lactiferous channels, and, more important still, a gradual elimination of those per- nicious bottle-fed influences, to which may be attributed so many evils both to the State and to the individual.
Looking over Dr. Jacobi's books and papers, one gets the impression of an honesty of purpose and a sincerity in them all. There is no clap-trap, no gallery-play, but a faithful ad- ministration of an intellectual trust, and, what is more, the professional spirit is reflected in them always on the nobler side. There is a double meaning in the well-known line :
" Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter."
And let us hope that what may come from his pen in the future may excel his past performances. A volume of poems, " Songs in Silence ;" written in der Stille of his prison-house, would be most acceptable, or a novel (of which Dr. Janeway has just spoken to me) in three volumes, or, better than either, his " Jugenderinnerungen," which he really should leave to us as an evening legacy.
To speak seriously, this magnificent demonstration is a tribute not less to Dr. Jacobi's personal worth than to the uni- form and consistent character of his professional career. The things which should, do not always accompany old age. The honor, love, obedience and troops of friends are not for all of us as the shadows lengthen. Too many, unfortunately, find themselves at seventy "nursing a dwindling faculty of joy,"
24
amid an alien generation. Fed on other intellectual food, trained by other rules than those in vogue, they are too often, as Matthew Arnold describes Empedocles, "in ceaseless opposi- tion." Against this interstitial decay, which insidiously, with no pace perceived, steals over us, there is but one antiseptic, one protection, the cultivation and retention of a sense of profes- sional responsibility. Happiness at threescore years and ten is for the man who has learned to adjust his mental processes to the changing condition of the time. In all of us senility begins at forty — forty sharp — sometimes earlier. To obviate the inevitable tendency, a tendency which ends in intellectual staleness as surely as in bodily weakness, a man must not live in his own generation. He must keep fresh by keeping in contact with fresh young minds, and ever retain a keen recep- tiveness to the ideas of those who follow him. Our dear friend has fortunately been able to do this in a remarkable manner, since he is one
"Whose even-balanced soul Business could not make dull, nor passion wild, Who saw life steadily and saw it whole."
*5
"IN relation to medical education." ADDRESS OF THE HONORABLE SETH LOW.
Mr. Chairman and Friends of Dr. Jacobi: —
FOR thirty years Dr. Jacobi has honored the College of Physicians and Surgeons, and through it Columbia Uni- versity, by faithful and brilliant service. To-night the famous old medical school is represented here by the Chairman of its Faculty, and the University by its President, to join with you in doing honor to Dr. Jacobi.
The Trustees will not allow this year to pass, I know, without recognizing in a formal and an official way, both Dr. Jacobi's professional success as a teacher in the medical school, and his distinguished standing as a man of letters and of sci- ence. But I am here to-night to speak for his colleagues of every Faculty, and these words are the words of friends.
Everybody who was fortunate enough to hear the paper which Dr. Jacobi read last year, at the seventieth birthday of his friend, Mr. Schurz, must have learned something, not only of Mr. Schurz, about whom the paper was written, but also about Dr. Jacobi, the man who wrote it. I, at least, got a clearer conception that evening than I had ever had before, — although I had known him and met him on many occa- sions— of the man of ideals ; the man of such patriotic impulses that he left his own country in order to come here and spend his life in the freer conditions that, at that time at any rate, he found in America. He also revealed himself then, as I recall it, as a man of tender but true friendships; as a man of quiet but real courage ; and as a man who would be faithful to any cause to which he once plighted his faith.
These are the qualities, first of all, which make Dr. Jacobi the man he is ; these are the qualities that have helped to make him a good teacher. I do not mean to say that a man can teach
26
science without knowing anything about it ; but I do mean that a teacher must first of all be a man if he is to be a good teacher.
We have heard of Dr. Jacobi as a physician. That, again, is another element of his power as a teacher. There be those — it is said — who preach, but do not practise. The physician practises, and in practising, he teaches, whether he will or not. Dr. Jacobi has added to his class-room work this sort of teach- ing, bringing to his equipment that sort of education which a man gets by absolute fidelity to his profession, by constant readiness to move forward with it, as Dr. Thomson has pointed out. He has merely added to that sort of teaching — the teaching of his classes.
It has sometimes occurred to me to wonder why so many of the ablest physicians take the time to teach. I think it is partly because they cannot help it. The man who learns by the practice of his profession what a man can learn only in that way, feels that he must teach some youth who is to follow him, that he may practise the better in his turn. And if Dr. Jacobi has been an educator because he has been a good physician, so also I think he has been an educator of rare quality because he has been distinctly a man of science. When a man ceases to learn, his value as a teacher has come to an end. A man who "knows it all " is the last man in the world to whom any one of us will go for information or instruction. But the man whose great learning, studious habits, and scientific training have made him feel how little he knows, and how much more there is to be known — this is the man that can wake up the zeal for learning in the student, and can show him the only path by which the student in his turn may become a master.
These are the traits of life, if you please, which have made Dr. Jacobi the teacher. His relation to instruction in his specialty of the diseases of children, many of you know much better than I. But I may at least have the pleasure of refer- ring to one incident, of which some of you may not know — certainly which has not been referred to here — which serves to illustrate his real eminence. In 1894, Prof. Henoch, of Berlin, resigned the chair of Pediatrics, on account of his advancing age. The University of Berlin invited Dr. Jacobi to be his successor. The invitation was creditable to
27
him as a man of science; it was the official recognition in the domain of higher education that Dr. Jacobi, in his own branch, stood at the head. Most men, it seems to me, would have felt inclined to accept so flattering a call; but Dr. Jacobi, with the simplicity that is characteristic of him, declined it, simply saying America had given to him the opportunities of life by which he had profited, and he desired to make to America what return he could.
I once knew a man who told me that his brain had cracked twice, by reason of the magnitude of the thoughts which he had entertained. I repeated the remark to some one, who said to me that the next time I saw him I had better suggest to him that he should have his head "hooped." Dr. Jacobi never needed that safeguard, for he has kept that great head of his intact and safe by his commanding spirit.
I can give you another illustration of Dr. Jacobi, the teacher; more homely, perhaps, than that I have mentioned, and yet not less creditable, I think. It has been his good for- tune to arouse in some one a feeling of such loyalty and devo- tion to him — I may not say whether this is a man or a woman — it is one of the delightful secrets with which presidents of universities are sometimes favored — as to lead this person to establish an Abraham Jacobi Ward for Children, in the Roose- velt Hospital. In that ward Dr. Jacobi carries on now his bed- side instruction. At the end of the first year of that oppor- tunity, all the students in his class united in an address to him, assuring him that they had greatly profited by his instruction, and telling him how highly they valued all he had done for them and been to them. If a teacher wakens that sort of a response in the student, the quality of the teacher speaks for itself.
I wish that it were possible to give to Dr. Jacobi the op- portunity to practise his art, and display his rare powers, on a wider scale than has been practicable ; and if it has some- times occurred to him to wonder why he should have declined perhaps one of the greatest opportunities in the world as a teacher, in order to satisfy himself with the meagre opportu- nities that are yet accorded in America for clinical instruction of this kind, I would like to point out to him that if he has not
28
himself entered into the promised land, at least his eyes must have seen enough to make him believe that he has done much to bring the people nearer to it. When he began to teach thirty years ago, the condition of medical education was not greatly different from that which Dr. Thomson has described in the early fifties. Since then the advance has been noted. I do not think that we have yet quite caught up with Europe — certainly in the matter of these clinical facilities. But I think the process is going on in the matter of education, as in other things. What man fifty years old cannot remember the rickety character of the roadbeds of the railroads and the poor equipment of thirty years ago — how every one of us, as we went abroad, felt that the work there was so much more substantially done. But there came a Commodore Vanderbilt into the railroad history of this country. When he had gotten possession of the stock of the Hudson River and Central Companies, some one said to him — what do you mean to do with it? He said, " I mean to dry up the Erie Canal and to drive every boat off the Hudson River." He did not mean it literally, of course, but he did mean to express his faith in the possibilities of transportation by the steam road. Now, pre- cisely that sort of development has taken place in the educa- tional world ; in medicine, and in every other direction. It has been such service as Dr. Jacobi has rendered, and such service as his colleagues have rendered, that is rapidly usher- ing in the day when the medical education of the United States will not be second to that of any country in the wide world.
29
"THE citizen."
ADDRESS OF THE HONORABLE CARL SCHURZ.
A BOUT a year ago I passed through an ordeal very like that ** which my friend, Dr. Jacobi, is enjoying now. I know, therefore, from personal experience what it implies. To find one's self congratulated upon having arrived at an age, which, according to correct notions, marks the terminus of human vitality ; to have it complimentarily announced that one is now classed among the ancients, whose right to claim a place on the stage of the present active generation may be considered open to question ; to feel one's self still pretty young and capable of activity as well as enjoyment, — as I am sure Dr. Jacobi and I do, — and then to remember that you younger men may smile at us for indulging in such an amiable illusion, while you com- fort us with the patronizing remark that we are remarkably well preserved — all this is an entertainment of not altogether unmixed hilarity. And then, also, to be pelted with merciless exposure of all one's virtues, and accomplishments, and en- deavors, and achievements — compliments which modesty shrinks from accepting and which politeness to kind friends forbids to decline — well, one appreciates it very highly and with sincere gratitude, to be sure, but it is an experience, to say the least, of complex sensations.
I therefore offer to my friend Jacobi the sincere and pro- found sympathy of one who knows. I well understand that troubled gaze of his which he fixes abstractedly upon the table cloth before him or upon the chandeliers above him, while the floods of eulogy are beating relentlessly upon his devoted head. I understand the peculiar dread with which, no doubt, he has seen me get upon my feet — me, a person that has been ac- quainted with him for fully fifty years, — and who, as he is well aware, knows more of and about him than anyone else here present. Still, in one respect he need have no fear. I shall
3°
not reveal about him any obnoxious secrets. Do not under- stand me as meaning that I could if I would. No, I would not if I could, being- mindful of the proprieties of the occasion. I am going to tell the simple truth ; and that he will have to bear as a brave man with becoming fortitude.
Yes, of Dr. Jacobi's friends assembled here, I am, no doubt, the oldest, probably the oldest in years, and certainly the oldest in friendship — for that friendship can look back upon just a half century of uninterrupted, and, I may add, unclouded duration. It was in the year 1850, in the German University town of Bonn-on-the-Rhine, that we first met. He was then still a student of medicine in regular standing. I was already an exile, but had secretly come back to Germany, engaged in a somewhat adventurous enterprise connected with the revo- lutionary movements of that period — an enterprise which made it necessary to conceal my whereabouts from those in power, with whom my relations were at the time, to speak within bounds, somewhat strained. I had the best reasons for desir- ing to avoid persons whose ill-will or indiscretion might have brought me into touch with the constituted authorities. It was then that a " mutual friend " introduced Jacobi and me to each other during a dark night in an out-of-the-way little garden house, having described him to me as a young man who could be absolutely depended upon in every respect and under all circumstances. And as the man who can be depended upon in every respect and under all circumstances, I have known and loved him ever since ; and if we could live together another half century, I should be ready to vouch for him in that sense every day of the year and every hour of the day.
At the period of which I have been speaking our inter- course was short. We traveled together a day or so — he going to Schleswig-Holstein where, as a budding physician, he ex- pected to do service in the capacity of a volunteer surgeon in the war then going on, and I to the field of my operations. Several years later we met again in the city of New York. He had in the meantime suffered in our native country long imprisonment for his active and self-sacrificing desire to make the people free and happy ; and then he sought and found a new home in this great Republic in which, if the people do not
31
create or maintain conditions to make them free and happy, it is their own fault.
I have been asked to speak of Dr. Jacobi as a citizen, and I may say that the manner in which he got into jail in the old country — for I have to admit the fact that he did serve two years in state prisons, whatever you may at the first blush think of it — indicated at that early day very clearly what kind of a citizen he would make in this republic. He was one of the young men of that period who had conceived certain ideals of right, justice, honor, liberty, popular gov- ernment— but which they cherished and believed in with the fullest sincerity, and for which they were ready to work, and to suffer, and, if necessary, to die. Theirs was a devotion, too, wholly free from self-seeking ambition — a devotion which found all its aims, and aspirations, and rewards within itself.
Of that class of young men he was one, struggling with poverty and no end of other discouragements in his laborious effort to become a good physician. He knew well that political activity could not possibly help him in reaching that end, but might rather become a serious obstacle in his path. Neither had he any craving to see his name in the newspapers, or to strike an attitude before the public. But moved by a simple sense of duty to his fellow-men, he associated himself, and unostentatiously co-operated with others in advocating and propagating the principles which formed his political creed. His convictions might have been honestly modified or changed by super-study, or larger experience, but they would not yield an inch to the reductions of fortunes, or to the frowns or favors of power. And as nothing could prevail upon him to renounce or even equivocate about the faith he honestly held, he went to jail for it, suffering his martyrdom with that inflexible and, at the same time, modest fortitude which is the touchstone of true manhood. Thus to have served a term in prison was with him a mark of fidelity to his conception of his duty as a citizen.
And that has been the type of his citizenship ever since. To be sure, the danger of being clapped into jail for the asser- tion or propagation of one's opinions is not very great in this Republic — at least, not yet. But we often hear it said — and, I
32
fear not without reason — that in our democracy as well as in others, public opinion — a term which is not seldom used to dignify a widespread prejudice, or an unreasoning craze — exer- cises a tyrannical sway, and that there are many people whose dread of becoming unpopular, or of incurring the displeasure of the influential elements of society, yield obedience to that power as readily as if it were a monarch with soldiers and jailers at his heels. Indeed, the moral courage of conviction against adverse currents is the most necessary, but, I appre- hend, not the most general of civic virtues.
Those who know our friend here as well as I do will agree with me that he possesses that civic virtue in a rare degree, and may emphatically be called a man never afraid, a man of that grim independence which is bent upon thinking right and doing right, no matter what others may think or do. There has hardly been an earnest effort for the enforcement of cor- rect principles of government, or for the vindication of justice and right, or against evil practices or demoralizing tendencies in our public concerns, since Dr. Jacobi became a citizen of this Republic, that he did not vigorously support in his effect- ive, although quiet and unpretentious way, no matter whether otner people liked it or not, or what it might cost him. I need not go into detail and tell of his services as a member of the famous Committee of Seventy, or as a co-worker with the Chamber of Commerce in cholera times, and in various other ways which, although equally, if not even more meritorious, have never come to public notice. Moreover, he was not only animated with a warm enthusiasm for high ideals and the ac- complishment of important public objects, but also with that healthy righteous wrath which abhors and attacks not only sin in the abstract, but the sinner in the concrete — a wrath far more wholesome to a democracy like ours than that facile and pliable tolerance which holds that sin is bad, to be sure, but that to disturb a sinner of respectable position would be to indulge in ungenteel personalities.
As in the realm of science he has always been the per- sonification of scientific conscience, so in the realm of civic duty he has always been the personification of civic conscience, not one of those optimists who always comfort themselves with the
33
belief that everything, however bad, will come right with- out a struggle ; nor one of those pessimists who, whenever anything goes wrong, give up everything as lost, and whine that further effort is useless — but a sturdy patriot who, what- ever discouragements there be, never despairs of the Republic, and remains ever ready to do his best and to sacrifice without counting, and to stand in the breach.
In him we see one of the adopted citizens whose peculiar patriotism is not always quite understood and appreciated by our native friends. It may strike some of you as somewhat audacious when I say that the adopted citizen may in a cer- tain sense be a more jealously patriotic American than the native. And yet is is true. The adopted citizen usually preserves a certain sentimental and reverential attachment to the country of his birth. But just because of this many of them are especially anxious to see the country of their adoption, by its virtues and the high character of its achieve- ments, justify their separation from their native land, and enable them to point with just pride to the choice they have made. They may for this very reason, when they see the character of their adopted country put in jeopardy, or its good name in the family of nations endangered, resent this and stand up for the cause of right, and of integrity, and of honor in their adopted country, with an intensity of feeling even greater than that which ordinarily animates the native.
Neither is it always a mere matter of necessity or of inter- est that keeps the adopted citizen here. Full of attractions and of opportunity though this country be, it may happen that mate- rial interest or legitimate ambition suggests a return to the native land ; and of fidelity to the adopted country, with which such temptations are sometimes resisted, Dr. Jacobi has furn- ished a striking example. Any man of science would consider it a high honor to be called to a professor's chair in one of the great universities of Germany. But when, some years ago, Dr. Jacobi received an intimation that such a position in the greatest of them all was open to him, he subdued the pride he might have felt in appearing in the same country, in which he had adorned a political prisoner's cell, now crowned with high distinction, and he promptly resolved that, having cast his lot
34
with this Republic, here he would stay. Surely his title to American citizenship, and to the name of a patriotic American could not be more complete.
I feel now that I ought to stop, out of regard for his feel- ings ; for if I were to say all that I know of him as his old and intimate friend, I might too severely shock his modesty, as he shocked mine on a similar occasion a year ago. But, after all, I find no fault with him for that; for there can hardly be a more wholesome and comfortable institution among men than a firmly established, well regulated, honest and steadfast mutual admiration society. And if by this time you have con- cluded that my friend Dr. Jacobi and myself have formed such a club of two, and find no end of satisfaction and pleasure in it, I shall not demur. I might even reveal some of the secret details of the comforts of our companionship, and say that frequently, when we had written something for publication or in print, or for delivery in speech, we read it to one another before it came out. You will admit that a friendship which has for many years endured this, can en- dure anything. To be sure, the ordeal was mitigated by the fact that we not only did not bore one another in that way, but we rather enjoyed it; for we always, reciprocally, found our productions quite excellent, whatever others might think of them. I trust my friend will pardon me for taking unusual liberties with him in such public revelations of private inter- course, for these are liberties which without offence may be taken by an older man with one so much younger.
To conclude, for fifty years I have loved him and been proud of him as a man of science of whom I know how learned, how conscientious, how indefatigable, how helpful and how justly renowned he is; as a citizen of whom I know how patriotic, how courageous, how unselfish, and how public spir- ited he is ; and as a friend whose nobility of heart only those can cherish and esteem as it deserves who know him best. And I can hardly describe how profoundly happy I am to be permitted to take part in this tribute which so many of the best men of the country are here assembled to pay to such genuine, sterling, and eminent worth.
35
THE PRESENTATION OF THE "FESTSCHRIFT.
ADDRESS OF DR. ARPAD G. GERSTER.
Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen:
IT is nearly two thousand years ago that the poet of the Augustine era, Horace, penned the boastful but true words: " Exegi monumentum aere perennius." Everyone knows how the prediction has been literally fulfilled. However, the poet's conviction would not have been thus confidently ex- pressed had there not been underlying it the solid fact, that of all man's works, there was none more enduring than the written word. It is not strange, therefore, that when a group of five men met a year ago last February to con- sider a fitting way in which the seventieth birthday of Dr. Jacobi ought to be celebrated, that the idea of publishing a "Festschrift," that is, a collection of literary contributions, furnished by a number of willing friends and colleagues, was immediately adopted.
Mr. Chairman, I hold in my hand a volume containing the scientific contributions of fifty-three medical men of note, men representing two continents and eleven nations. This tribute of the veneration and esteem of the authors is adorned by a splendid etching, the product of the masterly needle of James D. Smillie, a faithful image of the Ambrosian features of the original. I trust that the contents of the volume may be found as worthy of him whom they are meant to honor as their outward garb.
Mr. Chairman, permit me, through you, to ask Dr. Jacobi to accept this volume as kindly as it is offered. Let it serve as the outward token of our affectionate regard. Permit me also to extend to him the sincere wish for his long continued health and happiness. May it be granted to him to enjoy the sunny afternoon of a useful life in the mellow atmosphere of philosophical contentment, surrounded by those whom he loves best.
Vivat, crescat, florcat!
36
REMARKS OF DR. FRANCIS FOERSTER,
PRESENTING THE ADDRESS OF THE GERMAN HOSPITAL.
Mr. Chairman :
THE Collegium of the German Hospital and Dispensary- has conferred upon me the honor of presenting this ad- dress to its most distinguished and esteemed member, Dr. Abraham Jacobi, on this occasion, the celebration of the seventieth anniversary of his birthday. Spread upon it you will find the sentiments of his confreres, expressing heartfelt congratulations to him whom destiny favored so lavishly in every way, placing him before us the incarnation of all those qualities which we all ardently aim to achieve, but which so few can boast of possessing.
Probably more so than the medical profession in general the Collegium of the German Hospital has had the opportunity to appreciate the nobility of Dr. Jacobi's person and character. As a man, as a physician, as an educator, he commands our undivided admiration. As one of the founders of our institu- tion, he has, throughout his entire professional life, been much devoted to it, and even now, at a time of life when nature usually calls a halt to human energy, he is still laboring in the good cause of humanity, with a zeal and enthusiasm which is generally the privilege of youth only. Verily, a noble picture of self-denial, which cannot fail to give encouragement to the older colleagues to carry on his onerous burden, to the younger man a radiant example, a guiding star on the thorny path of medical life.
Let us hope that this man, who was evidently born a benefactor to mankind, may be spared to the world for many years yet to come.
37
REMARKS OF DR. EMIL GRUENING,
PRESENTING THE RESOLUTIONS FOR MOUNT SINAI HOSPITAL.
Mr. Chairman and Dr. Jacobi:
THE medical staff of Mount Sinai Hospital has confided to me the agreeable task of placing in your hands this set of resolutions on this interesting occasion. The members of the staff wish to express their admiration of the sterling qualities which characterize your long and honorable career. We of the staff, together with these members of the community repre- senting all the higher activities of human life, assemble here to celebrate the event of your seventieth birthday, and know that you have not only added years to your life, in arith- metical progression, but have become the man of wide reading, the man of wide experience, the classical scholar and the practical man, the man whose knowledge of things and men is almost unequaled in this community. We see you before us endowed with the physical and mental vigor of your early days, and with the enthusiasm and courage of your youth, and think that we have reason to congratulate you and ourselves. You — because by your life you have carried into effect the Homeric admonition,
ltAi£v apwreveiv uai vnsipoxov e'jxjuevai aXXoov,"
and ourselves — because we had the good fortune to have lived at least a part of our life in your time, to have heard your marvelously ubiquitous voice in the college and in the council, in the academy and in the asylum, in the hospital and in the dispensary, in the library and in the medical society. It has been our privilege to admire in you the citizen partici- pating in municipal, state, and national affairs, and the man cultivating the higher sentiments and emotions. It has been our good fortune to have you before us as a shining example and an impelling force.
I remember well, though twenty-five years have passed, when we stood at the grave of Krackowizer, the good and wise man, and you, Dr. Jacobi, spoke the words of farewell. You chose, in characterization of the man, the Terentian words : "Homo sum et humani nihil a me alienum puto."
These words, Dr. Jacobi, apply to you, because your life has been a full human life, a cosmos, a beautiful, a universal life.
38
ADDRESS OF DR. A. JACOBI,
THE GUEST OF THE EVENING.
T WISH I could proceed from man to man and in silence * press your hands, for words of mine do not suffice for the throng of feelings that swell my heart. Before me I see men in all high walks of life, members of my own and other pro- fessions, I see statesmen, poets, university professors, and presidents — to me this illustrious assembly is a university indeed. Of medical men there are at least two generations, few though of mine, but many of my own pupils who long ago be- came my masters and my teachers.
Occasions like this, which is unique in its brilliancy and scope, are apt to try a man's soul. Your appreciation and ap- plause is elevating and encouraging, but there is an element in it of a sorrowful sense of humiliation and discouragement, inasmuch as no man I believe can be, and I certainly am not, conscious of deserving them to the degree they are tendered. I take it for granted that I am expected to speak, in part, I suppose, of the topic of the evening — myself. But how, and what? I have been eulogized as if I were dead. Not being quite dead yet, I should not join in the praise. On the other hand, to speak derogatorily of my doings would be discourte- ous to those who expressed their good opinions. If, after all, you will be content with hearing a plain talk on some of the things that happened to me and to the profession this half cen- tury, I shall consider it an honor to be listened to.
When I speak to you of my aspirations on my arrival here, nearly forty-seven years ago, I probably say nothing new to those who once found themselves in a strange world, ignorant and not known, without relatives or social influence. I wanted, both from necessity and from impulse, work in my profession. Young years had ripened in me the ambition to be useful either
39
to the individual or to the masses. This is what had led me into the political life of the German revolution. I wanted to be useful to the sick, and in order to reach that aim strove to reduce my ignorance, which, aside from being a natural gift, was vastly increased in the wasting idleness of years in a Prus- sian state prison. Aspirations, however, will grow with widen- ing horizons. When I came here I knew nothing of American medicine. It was simply unknown in Europe. Nor was America much better informed in regard to European medi- cine. With the exception of a few translations from the French and a number of English re-publications, — called American editions, — European literature was but scantily known and ap- preciated except by the few who, like Jackson and Oliver Wendell Holmes, had enjoyed the opportunities of being with that great master, Louis. I felt I might help in building a bridge between the literatures of the two hemispheres, and Stephen Smith took my first extracts. That office was ren- dered more unnecessary from year to year. European lan- guages and literatures are more studied amongst us now, and personal intercourse between the two continents is easier and more frequent ; so frequent indeed that there are voices that seem to advise against our young mens going to Europe to embark on post-graduate studies. That advice is to be deplored. I should improve it by advising Europeans to come here for that purpose. The more the languages that are studied, the wider the horizons that are scanned, the more different the methods that are learned in medical pursuits, the more a man, young or old, will become a world to himself. By such ex- changes Europe has learned, will learn to respect us as we have admired Europe.
At an early time, long before the foundation in 1857 of the German dispensary, the first medical institution in New York in which German-born physicians began their co-opera- tion with American medicine, I took an interest in the physi- ology and pathology of infancy and childhood. Was it the helplessness of the patients, the apparent or alleged difficulty of the subject, or its neglect in American literature, or all three of these reasons, that made me take hold of it, I cannot tell. But it fired my heart and imagination to suppose that if
40
I labored for that honor, the history of American pediatrics would possibly contain my name among-, as I fondly hoped, many more. Beyond that my dreams never went. I could not believe, nor do I to-night, in spite of what has been going on here, that, as Heine has it, my name should ever be men- tioned among the best. But what I know from the history of the subject is this, that after the foundation of the first special clinic for the diseases of children in the New York Medical College in i860 and in the University Medical College in 1865, such clinics increased in number, so that there is at present no large medical school without one. A very prominent part of our good medical literature is pediatric, and there are two jour- nals exclusively dedicated to the diseases of children, some full professorships have been established, and the teaching, mainly in New York, also in Boston and Philadelphia, has in part become bedside instruction.
Much credit has been given me, I know, for the rapid development of pediatrics in this country. It is true I have the doubtful advantage of being born in advance of my col- laborators ; but the time was matured for the new birth, and it so happened that many of the best medical minds of the nation became interested as I had been. Beside Stewart, Eberle, Meigs, hard-working, painstaking and honest J. Lewis Smith should not be forgotten. History, indeed, is not easily made by individuals, for a Washington is not born to every century or country. Not even a Bismarck could have moulded Ger- many into one nation if it had not been for the preparatory labors of previous generations, that of the revolutionary youth of 1848 included. Nor could a Johns Hopkins create what we now know Johns Hopkins University to mean, without the constant and conscientious co-operation of great men whose names are on every lip. It is true, however, in science alone, as pathfinders and organizers, single men may make history, but the tribe of Paracelsus, Morgagni, Haller, John Hunter, Bichat and Virchow is not numerous.
So you see that I have been most fortunate. A large family of brilliant pediatrists has grown up around me, both in private practice and in official positions. Through them, to a great part, clinical teaching has become the acknowledged
41
means of medical instruction, though in most of the faculty frames their branches are still considered inferior to what is called a full professorship with didactic teaching. On the other hand, pediatrics is, by force of circumstances, given the very highest rank, for instance, in Columbia University. It recognizes the necessity of postponing special pediatric teach- ing to the fourth year ; that is, after the young men are deemed to be fully prepared and capable ; it also considered itself lucky when the generosity of an unknown donor enabled it to estab- lish a pediatric ward in Roosevelt Hospital for bedside instruction.
Unknown donor! More unknown or known donors are wanted. A single half million of dollars will suffice to build and endow a child's hospital of fifty beds. When that will be accomplished, in connection with a medical school, then, and then only, will Columbia, or any other university be able to supply the Commonwealth with doctors who had ample oppor- tunities to study the diseases of infants and children that will always form the majority of their patients. The race of Van- derbilts, Carnegies, Sloanes, Ottendorfers, Woerishoffers, Seth Lows, Paynes and Pierpont Morgans cannot possibly be extinct.
In 1853 — I speak of what I have seen myself — the medi- cal schools had the most accomplished teachers, and to a large part the most immature students. The teachers were mostly men of a national reputation ; many of them were instructed in Europe, most of them had enjoyed a classical education. Ma- triculants, however, were admitted, as well from the plough as from the college, and no questions asked. The curriculum extended over two years, was almost exclusively didactic, the professor would teach the same subjects annually, and clinical teaching was in its embryonal stage. There are those here who remember that time, and also the lengthening of the course to three and finally to four years. Clinical teaching I have seen extending until, together with obligatory laboratory work, it bids fair to assume the leading part in our instruction.
In that way we imitated, but did not reach Europe. It takes some time to get so far. We were a young people, and where the plough was required to sustain our lives, the microscope,
42
with its scrutiny of the almost invisible, had to wait. Our scientific institutions were not endowed, and had to serve im- mediate practical ends. Laboratory workers could but rarely be paid for lack of funds. But now, and for some time past, well-to-do men go into medicine for love, and not for money. They invest their own in their pathologic, biologic, histologic or chemic labors, and as good citizens of the Republic are satisfied with the interest their investment will bear to the domain of science, in the service of humanity. Medicine, like politics, will be purer for the money put into it, instead of being taken out of it.
In still another respect, I have been most fortunate. While pediatrics has become the subject of special study, and while there are even those who restrict their practice to infants and children, there never was the tendency to set it up as one of the narrow specialties. In regard to them many changes have taken place. During my own early life, I have seen a meritorious man whom I much admired, Horace Green, per- secuted and derided because he paid what was considered too much attention to the larynx, perhaps also — who can tell, — be- cause he knew more about it than all of the rest ; and while get- ting older I had to observe, first in Europe, then with us, the tendency to exaggerated specialization, which has contributed much to narrow the scientific, mental and moral horizon of many a young man who means to become a wealthy and famous specialist, without ever having been a physician. I know of no pediatrist with that turn of mind. To study and practice a specialty should not mean to cut loose from medicine. It is not in vain that the fourteen great national special organ- izations feel the good there is in consolidation in a trien- nial Congress.
In regard to our medical schools, it should be remembered that, with few exceptions, all of them were at one time, and most of them are still, private institutions. An intelligent American audience need not be told that vanity, avarice, terri- torial pride, professional jealousy, had a good deal to do with the mushroom growths. St. Louis and Chicago had at one time, and have perhaps to-day, thirty medical schools between them. That is why professors are as numerous as crab-apples
43
and plain doctors are scarce, at least in large cities. I am certain I express the opinion of all here when I say that medi- cal teaching will be better, and more uniform, and more in ac- cordance with the requirements of the public, when our one hundred and fifty schools will have been reduced to twenty- five, and each of them will be connected with a university as its medical department.
At the same time, in 1853, American medical literature was in its beginning. It is true Drake had long before written his "Principal Diseases of the Valley of North America," — an immortal work. Holmes had proclaimed the contagious- ness of puerperal fever many years before Semmelweis ; but such great achievements were few. Original books were scarce. Some of our few journals were of the best. I mention the honest, scientific, and conscientious Journal of the Medical Sciences, and the always noble and refined Boston Medical and Surgical Journal. There were in New York the Journal of Medicine, which has since been transformed into the New York Medical Journal, and the prototype, alongside the Boston Jour- nal, of our present weeklies, the American Medical Times. And now in 1900! Your literature is as well known to you as to me. Let me speak, therefore, only of our more than 300 medical journals. That some represent the finest flowers of intellectual research and keen observations, many more, how- ever, the choicest rubbish accumulated by phenomenal igno- rance and advertising impertinence, is simply a sad fact. Re- duce them to forty; these forty will have a larger market, may be able to select their contributions and to pay the contributors, while at present they enrich the publishers only. The larger markets will enable professional men or corporations to follow and improve upon the example of the Philadelphia Medical Journal, and at least strike out for independent action, and finally found an independent press, not relying for its suste- nance on the advertisements of proprietary articles, whose prin- cipal element is the barbarism of their names, or on so-called original papers which bear the unwritten signature of nostrum manufacturers on every one of its bold and shameless pages. Gentlemen, it is time things should take a turn. There was a period when they asked: Who reads an American book?
44
American books are now read the world over by privileged men, and even translated. Verily, verily, the time should come speedily when they will ask : Where is the ignoramus that does not know American literature?
Twenty years' exertion before the Legislature on the part the medical profession — not of the schools, some of which were opposed to progressive movement — has at last resulted in the demands of a minimum of preliminary knowledge before matriculation, and, further, in a law according to which the license to practice depends on the result of a State examination for citizens and foreigners, that is not controlled by the medical schools. The law, in its fear of improper influences, has even, incorrectly, I think, excluded from the board of ex- aminers whosoever is in any way connected with a teaching faculty. In all these successful endeavors of the rank and file of the profession, I lent my hand. If there be any merit in my so doing, I claim it. For though a college professor, I saw the mistake of the schools that combated the inevitable prog- ress on account of alleged but misunderstood interests, and kept intact and sacred my allegiance to the great profession in which I started, and in which I hope I shall remain to my last hour. With another step in the evolution of medical teaching I have much less to do than I could wish ; for the growth of post-graduate schools has not only disseminated modern knowl- edge and methods among the established practitioners, but also started an impulse in the undergraduate schools to arrange for post-graduate courses.
Medical societies have grown in membership, numbers and influence. But latterly their number has grown so as to justify the suggestion that there is no blessing in the multi- plicity of names, inasmuch as new societies have to recruit themselves either from the members of older ones, or to look for candidates among the young men, by more or less scru- pulous canvassing. There is more strength in forceful con- solidation than in fanciful expansion. Besides, it is a matter of sincere regret to many of us to note that the spirit of un- friendliness should not be buried forever, and that now and then personal vanities and grievances have the better of com- mon sense and justice, and of the professional welfare. Many
45
years ago one of the societies — the orthopedic — gave up its separate existence to become a section of the Academy of Medicine ; there are some others that would be more useful than they are even now by taking a similar step. Within the time I speak of that Academy took wondrous strides. I knew it in a small room in the University of Washington Square ; then in West 31st Street; and love it in its present palace, with its ever- increasing public medical library, the second in importance in the country ; its impartial, non-political interest and co-operation in all public sanitary questions ; with its labors in matters of quarantine, cholera and watershed ; with its generosity to mem- bers and non-members alike that is so recognized as to provoke callous abuse ; and with its ten sections in constant working order. They have given the young men, during now more than a dozen years, the opportunity for legitimate competi- tion, for obtaining a hearing, and making their reputations. Ask them, and they will tell you that their growing renown — next to themselves and their honest work — is due to the possibilities afforded them in the New York Academy of Medicine. May its shadow grow forever!
During a long life I have seen more. Hospitals were built or enlarged, dispensaries and similar places established to such an extent as to justify anxiety about, and the battle against, the abuse of medical charities. Personally I have always seen, and still see, a great danger in tempting people to demand and take gratuitously services they can and should pay for. The gradual undermining of individual honesty and responsibility will prove a nail to the coffin in which republican institutions, founded as they are on equality, mutual obligations and prob- ity, may some day be buried. The impulse given by the pro- fession has also resulted in the foundation of the Willard Parker Hospital, which should have been one of many, and of the Minturn Hospital; in the improvement of the factory laws referring to children, in school inspection, which should be more comprehensive and more influential than it is; and in ridding the people of part of its quacks. How difficult that office is, and how serious the danger connected with it, in spite of the persistent and well-directed efforts of the New York County Medical Society, can be appreciated only by those who
46
know the extent of quackery in all classes of the public, which for proprietary medicines alone pays two hundred millions annually, and the sympathy it meets even with the alleged spiritual heads of mankind. Says Herbert Spencer: "The incorporation of authorized practitioners has developed a trades-union spirit, which leads to jealousy of the unincorpo- rated practitioners, that is, the irregulars." In the solitude of his study, and communing with himself, he did not learn the needs of the people and the necessity of protecting their health against their own ignorance and prejudice, and of offer- ing them unadulterated and unselfish science and art, as you feel bound to furnish them pure water and food, sometimes, or often, against their will. There are but few of us that have a high opinion of the discernment and discretion of a large part of the public. For there is too much clairvoyance, Christian lack of science, medical sectarianism and medicine-chest quackery, and too much dilettantism amongst our well-clad and well-fed, semi-instructed, but uncultured and mentally unbalanced classes.
Meanwhile, the profession, and I amongst them, have plodded on. Untold thousands have arisen this half century of mine, or passed away. There were the wage-workers, the teachers, the pathfinders. There were those who fought dis- ease or epidemics bravely and survived, or those who died in a single task and left their small children hungry. It is true, the time has passed when the doctor was killed when he lost a patient. That is different now ; we are more civilized, we are satisfied with murdering his good name. There were, there are only few that gained repute, local or national. If there were, it was not always to their advantage. Harvey and Gall, like many others that worked for science, lost their practice and livelihood ; still without them there would have been no Bichat and no Virchow.
The brave physician's work was always hard, for it is as difficult to save one life as it is easy to kill a thousand. That is why I cannot feel enthusiasm for the doctor who is occasion- ally puffed for leaving his humane work to participate in the killing, nor for the injustice of history, that mentions a thous- and generals to one physician.
47
Some of what I have said may be objected to. But I know that the views I expressed were mine always, and are not en- gendered by advancing age.
What after all is age? The boundary line between the young and the old is not, I take it, in the bald head or the gray whiskers, but in the change of a man's ambitions, motives and purposes, and of his relations to the world and its ways and aims. It is true that I have been told even to-night that I am seventy, in the pleasant way you have of showing your condolence. I can bear it as long as those not so old as I am accused of being treat me as their equal and call me young — for an aged man.
Now, may I betray to my younger colleagues — I like to talk to them — how I succeeded in getting along with my age and with the young, and remain — as many say — one of them. By arranging and gradually developing a life programme, I tried to learn from my books, my patients, and my colleagues, sometimes even from midwives and old women. Ambrose Pare* admitted that he hated quacks only when they could teach him nothing.
I think, also, I did my duty to my patients and colleagues. In accordance with my democratic schooling, I was fortu- nate enough to have respect for the individual. That is why I found it easy to imagine myself in the place of a patient, and to spare his feelings if I could not preserve his life. Where you cannot save, you can still comfort. I never told a patient he had to die of his illness, and hope I shall never be so care- less or so indolent as to do so in future. The magnetic needle of professional rectitude should, in spite of occasional deviations, always point in the direction of pity and humanity. Another lesson I learned early was this, that my patient had to be treated, and not the name of his disease, and, also, as my illustrious medico-poetical friend proclaimed in Washington a few days ago: " 'Tis not the body, but the man is sick." My medical education dated from a dangerous era. Symptom- atic diagnosis had been replaced by the anatomic. Rokitansky and Skoda cared more for the dead bodies than the living con- valescents ; the former proclaimed loudly that the only thing scientific in medicine was the autopsy, and the Nihilism of
48
Vienna was that time's modern therapy. You and the patient met only twice — first, when you made the diagnosis of his case ; second, at his autopsy. Fortunately, in F. Nasse, I had, fifty years ago, a teacher of unadulterated humanity, combined with all the scientific eagerness of his mental youth of exactly seven- ty years. From him also, though he was not a democrat nor a revolutionist, I learned the sacredness of individual right and life which I have never ceased to respect. Thus I learned two things : first, never to let up in my care of individual life when entrusted to me ; secondly, that no single political or religious creed ever owns, or controls, or interferes with the dictates of humanity and common sense. Man is above theories or creeds.
Further, my young friends, I never thought I owned my patients, and never grudged my colleagues their own. I never shrugged my shoulders when they were well spoken of, and did not believe my reputation suffered when they were eulo- gized. I always preferred that patients should come to me, to my running after them. When a patient left me for some other doctor, I may have felt chagrined, but I did not blame the doctor he called in. When a doctor robbed me of a patient by hook or crook, or both, — such things do happen, I believe, even now, — I was sorry for the doctor and for the profession, and glad I was not he. To compete honestly I think is easy for a gentleman ; to bear dishonest competition should be easy, but it worries. Not to take honest competition on the part of others kindly, shows disregard for the rights of others, either doctors or patients, and bad citizenship ; or it proves prema- ture old age, with its occasional avidity and venomous jealousy. Now, the morbid bitterness of old age, of which we hear, I have not experienced as yet, and if, or when, it will come with the increasing atherosis of my brain arteries, I wish and trust somebody will tell me. There are, besides, a few tricks of mine which prevented both my brains and heart from getting alto- gether too rusty. There was a time — very long ago — when I was the youngest everywhere. When I got bravely over that, I always kept in touch with the young, either students or colleagues, or writers. Literature is always young, students and colleagues sometimes too much so. But they suited me
49
exactly, for they kept me in touch both with my former self and the new era. Mainly in the last decade or two, the young men were compelled to learn many new things which, though Leeuwenhoek two hundred years and Henle sixty years ago saw the holy land from afar, could not have been believed pos- sible by a Sydenham, or Boerhaave, or Haller, or even Bichat. We older men are either behind the time, or we have to unlearn much of our dearly-bought stock, and to learn with the young men, or from them. To the young amongst you all, particu- larly to my own accomplished assistants, both in private and official positions, I here express my thanks, not only for the direct instruction I have received from them, but for the im- ponderable intellectual and moral influence the intercourse between intelligent creatures must always exert. Then there is another trick. When your anger arises within you over some unjust thing, be not afraid of showing the blush on your face ; when an iniquity is perpetrated, resent it. Be not afraid of slapping the cheek that deserves it in private or in public. Personally I hate enmities; they always fretted and worried me and gave me sleepless nights; but I never was afraid of the enemies I made as long as I fought the battle of profes- sional or civic decency and dignity. If there be a bad, or a ludicrous, or a dangerous man, and if he feels offended by my telling him of his misdeeds and my trying to protect the pro- fession or the community against him, here I plead guilty, and I shall do it again forevermore. When I shall stop, then call me old.
The facility of obtaining a diploma and the license to practice, formerly greater than now, has so filled the profes- sion with undesirable men and women as to crowd the ideal, as to what the physician should be, to the wall. It is only with the growing difficulty of matriculation and increasing severity of examinations that the number of underweight doc- tors becomes smaller. With this increase, and with growing competition, the methods of obtaining a livelihood in every business and vocation become more doubtful. That is why the morals of the profession have been subjected to a most severe strain. Moreover, the commercialism which is the sig- nature of the end of our century has invaded industries, arts,
5°
science and the professions, more, in Europe — as I could easily prove — than in America.
This superiority of the moral tone in our American pro- fession is due to the innate pride of our citizens, and has cer- tainly been commemorated or preserved by the teachings of the code of the American Medical Association. So settled is that habit of modesty and pride amongst us that when finally we resolved in the Medical Society of the State of New York that no law-book was required to guide our methods of inter- course, the observance of the rules valid among gentlemen became even stricter in the profession of the State of New York than ever before. Still there are those who are infected with the meretricious spirit of the times and think they cannot wait for success. Indeed, no profession should expect to be exclusively composed of men of stern character and incorrupt- ible probity. The methods of reaching their ends are, there- fore, as the case may be, those of vanity or obtrusiveness, now and then of dishonesty.
Those of us, however, who crave notoriety in the belief that the majority of the public have as little brains as fish that take every bait, will meet reporters at the bar or in the sacred concealments of their offices, get into the newspaper columns with their wonderful electrical discoveries, miraculous cases, unheard-of operations and long titles, the least of which at present is "professor."
In the words of a great cynic, "What are you going to do about it?" There are those whose egotism and vanity are not controlled by any regard for the public good and who are acrobatic experts in the art of keeping on the fence between honorable professional behavior and shameless quackery. If they knew how ludicrous they are, and how pitiful they appear in the eyes of the honest crowd about them, they would do better. And here is a word to the young. I am afraid we old men are past changing, but it is a failing in our national character to be always cordial, always courteoiis, always hand- shaking. We do not identify the sin and the sinner ; we abhor the former, and are too good-natured to shun the latter. If there be a danger to our morals and our politics, it is there. If you, the young men in the profession, will refuse approval
5*
and honors to men whose actions and methods you condemn, if you will only show them that your heart is chilled against them — some of them are in public positions — there will soon be an end to offences which need not always result from wicked- ness, but from bad taste only. There are those indeed among the vain who fear the display of bad taste more than the perpetration of sin.
After all, however, when I look backward, I really do not believe that the moral tone of the profession is lower than cir- cumstances will always necessitate in this period where trade is everything. There were jealously, strife, and competition at all times, and men were always human. The " good old times " is an ideal that, while its consummation is too far ahead or beyond the horizon altogether, is searched for backward. Doctors were always what their time, their people, their sur- roundings made them.
The mutual relation of physicians I have seen improving during my own time, that is, within half a century. Imagine that twice that time, only one century ago, the literature on the behavior of physicians toward one another was very copious ; evidently, the need of it was great. At that time consultations between doctors were declared by a well-meaning writer to be impossible, purposeless, time-killing and ' ' revolt- ing," and as late as 1783 famous I. P. Frank advised seriously to call in the police to arbitrate and restore order when doctors disagreed in their consultations. That was only a century after the polite scoundrel of Moliere proposed to his colleagues : " Let me bleed him, and I'll let you purge him. "
Not very long before my time the amenities of profes- sional intercourse cannot have been very great, when Lisfranc called Dupuytren the butcher of the Hotel Dieu, and Dupuy- tren dubbed Lisfranc the murderer of the Charite. One of the later publications on the mutual relations of doctors was that of Percival in 1807; it was made the law-book of the American Medical Association in 1847. My illustrious friend in Washington, Dr. S. C. Busey,who upholds it as a necessity, still proclaims that the rule forbidding consultations with sec- tarian practitioners altogether should be so modified as to per- mit them in cases of emergency. That is what the Medical
52
Society of the State of New York made its policy in 1882. It was a number of years afterward that the code was abolished altogether. As far as I am personally concerned, I am still of the opinion expressed years ago, that there are no statistical data to prove that more sins are committed by gentlemen with- out than with a written code.
On the other hand, I cannot see why whatever differences there are between those who adhere to the code of ethics and those who believe in and act on the same principles could not be easily adjusted. Books are made for the use of men, by men, and no fires are lit any more in this country under the impression that differences of opinion can be killed like human bodies. The spirit does not burn like flesh. Why differences of opinion as to the indispensability of a written code should lead to animosity to such an extent as to preclude the possi- bility of a peaceful discussion, I have never been able to conceive.
What, indeed, does all the discord amount to? The whole profession agrees about the inadvisability of consultations, in the very interest of the patient, with a certain class of medical men, in the average case of illness. In emergency cases such consultations are permitted for reasons of humanity by both parties of the profession. One of them bases its action on the written code of ethics, the other deems a written code un- necessary for its guidance. It is my opinion that our suc- cessors will hardly believe we ever were serious men when they learn that the enlightened and public-spirited profession could go to war over differences of motives and methods when the end in view was the same.
Mr. Chairman, I have been, more than I deserve, praised as a physician, as a teacher, as a citizen. My own remarks re- ferred mainly to the first, for I am proud of the profession to which I belong. Every individual professional man, if he be, as mostly, a good man, and the collective profession have always proved good and statesmanlike citizens. They do not, I grieve to say, take much personal part in the politics of the city or country, but whoever knows the exhausting life the medical man is leading cannot wonder that we are not often seen in the political arena. This is deplorable, and my word
53
to the young is to lend a hand to this country of their birth, or of their adoption, for it is in America that many political, eco- nomic, and social problems will have to be solved. In every other respect there is no man that gives more and gets less than the physician. And the profession at large?
There is no interest connected with the life and health of the community that was not fostered by the co-operating phy- sicians. The sanitary commission of the Civil War contained illustrious names like Agnew and Krackowizer. Physicians know best or feel most intensely that a people stricken with poverty and ignorance,and decimated by preventable sickness, should be deemed an anachronism in this century, and that, as Virchow expresses it, every epidemic is a warning that should teach a statesman that there is a preventable or curable dis- order in the organism of the commonwealth. Unfortunately it is too often true, what Anarcharsis said of Athens, that the wise men do the talking and the others the ruling. If that were not so, it would look impossible that a quarter of a million asked for once in behalf of the establishment of what is to be at the same time a life-saving station and an instruction camp, should be refused, while a million a day is spent on destruc- tion ; or that an appropriation required for the solution of problems connected with the mental health and disease of tens of thousands of our fellows should be withheld. The battles against prejudice, shortsightedness, and incompetence are always fought by the medical profession, which unfortunately is too often not consulted, and that, gentlemen not of the medi- cal profession within the hearing of my voice, is what binds us together and renders us proud of one another, with that altru- istic unselfishness which is our sacred egotism. To look back upon a long life spent in that profession is my greatest satis- faction, and to know that no changing influence of the day is able to divert the profession from its manifest destiny and plain duty of being and remaining the teacher and protector of the race, in all that pertains to its physical and moral welfare, is a boon greater than endless millions or worldly power. Of that profession I have been one these many decades. That is why I am here, distinguished and honored more than I per- sonally deserve, but understanding perfectly well that my
54
brethren have come here with the sentiment of professional goodfellowship, and the lay friends to do homage to their greatest benefactors, namely, medical science and the Ameri- can medical profession, in the person of one of its fellows.
What I have said, gentlemen, may look to many rather like an academic discourse than an after-dinner talk. It re- mains for me to thank you for your patience ; remember, how- ever, this happens only once in seventy years. I have to express my thanks for many more things. Consider my recol- lections of nearly half a century. I came here a foreigner, and never was made to feel I ever zvas a foreigner. I emerged from a European state prison to breathe the pure air of a free country. My political and social ideals were not all fulfilled, it is true, for nothing is perfect that is human ; that is why it was still necessary for me to be an abolitionist and a mugwump, with the perfect assurance — which I still hold — that some time or other the minority turns out to be the majority. I im- ported nothing but the willingness to work hard and to be modest and grateful. I joined a profession that owed me nothing, and knew still less of me than I knew of the profes- sion. The kind reception I met with surprised me, for I knew that a foreigner would not be so treated in the country I had escaped from. I had but little except the knowledge of my duties and responsibilities. With that small capital I was re- ceived and allowed to co-operate as an equal in whatever con- cerned the profession and its relations to the commonwealth, city or country. I repeat only what everybody knows, so I do not boast when I say that one by one almost every place of honor the profession had at its disposal has been mine. Of this day I must not speak, for I cannot do so without tears in my throat. Who is there that wondered that when many years ago the great honor of a responsible position in a foreign country was offered me, it took me a single minute only to decline? I was, I am, rooted in the American profession, that I have observed to evolve without governmental aid, out of its own might, to become equal to any on the globe. I was, I am, rooted in the country that was my ideal when I was young, my refuge when, alone and persecuted, I stole away, and always, clouds or no clouds, my sunny hope forevermore.
55
And this " Festschrift ! " These last weeks I wondered many a time, and I do so now, that I should be the receiver of that honor. When many years ago heroes like Virchow, and then again Henoch, were to be held up for the admira- tion of the medical world, on both occasions, I had the privilege of co-operating in the expression of the estima- tion in which they were held. This distinction is rare, even in the country of my birth. In otir country, I know onty of two such dedicatory volumes, the " Wilder Quarterly-Century Book of 1893," dedicated to Prof. Burt Green Wilder, of Cor- nell University, and the volume presented to Professor W. H. Welch, of Johns Hopkins, — once a hospital assistant of mine, now one of my honored masters, — yesterday evening. That the country which adopted me, and gave me, a peer amongst peers, opportunities to work, should in true cosmopolitan spirit adopt this method, rare enough in Germany, of raising a man to the greatest possible height of distinction, and making him shine above all men — and this man I — is far, far beyond what was the culmination of all my possible hopes. That men here and the world over should respect me to the last day of my life, was the extent of my pardonable wishes. If nothing else, however, this book, the work of others, will carry my name to posterity. I accept it with the gratitude due for that immeasurably rich gift. Amongst its contributors I see the names of many old friends, and some whose faces I never saw; the names of men from all civilized countries, honored in the realm of medical literature, known to one another by their achievements, separated by seas and boundary lines, but work- ing for the same ends in the service of science and of mankind. Aims, methods and persistency are common to the medical profession of all countries. On its flag is inscribed what should be the life rule of nations: Fraternity and solidarity.
56
LETTERS AND TELEGRAMS RECEIVED.
AMONG the letters and telegrams received from those unable, because of distance or for other reasons, to attend the dinner, were the following :
CABLEGRAM FROM THE MEDICAL FACULTY OF THE UNIVERSITY
OF BONN.
Jacobi, Delmonico's, New York :
Herzlichste Glueckwuensche.
Medicinische Facult/£t Bonn.
FROM SIR HERMAN WEBER OF LONDON.
Doctor Jacobi, New York :
Warm congratulations ; past successful ; future happy.
Weber.
FROM THE PEDIATRIC SOCIETY OF K.IEW, RUSSIA.
To Dr. F. E. Sondern, New York :
Doctissime Professor Jacobi Societas Paediatrica Kievensis to Salutat. Troitskv.
FROM PROFESSOR ADOLF BAGINSKY, OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN.
To Dr. F. E. Sondern, New York:
Gratulor !
Baginsky.
57
FROM PROFESSOR VIOLI, DIRECTOR OF ST. GEORGE'S HOSPITAL,
CONSTANTINOPLE.
To Jacobi, New York:
Congratulations.
Violi.
FROM PROFESSOR CARMICHAEL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINGBURH,
AND PROFESSORS BALLANTYNE AND THOMSON, OF THE SCHOOL
OF MEDICINE OF THE ROYAL COLLEGES, EDINBURGH.
To Jacobi, New York:
Heartiest congratulations.
Carmichael, Ballantyne, Thomson.
FROM PROFESSOR SOLTMANN, OF THE UNIVERSITY OF LEIPZIG.
To Dr. F. E. Sondern, New York;
Dem hochverehrten Fachcollegen und Freund Glueck-
WUnSCh. SOLTMANN.
FROM PROFESSOR VARGAS, OF BARCELONA.
To Dr. F. E. Sondern, New York:
Honor Genio!
Vargas.
FROM PROFESSOR OSCAR LASSAR, OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN.
Professor Jacobi, New York:
Herzlichen Glueckwunsch.
Professor Lassar.
53
FROM PROFESSOR JOHANNESSEN, OF THE UNIVERSITY OF
CHRISTIANIA.
To Jacobi, New York:
Gratuliere.
JOHANNESSEN.
FROM PROFESSOR KARL GERHARDT, OF THE UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN.
Dr. F. E. Sondern, New York :
Vivat Jacobi !
Gerhardt.
FROM PROFESSOR ESCHERICH, OF GRATZ.
To Dr. F. E. Sondern, New York:
Heil dem Altmeister Jacobi.
Escherich.
FROM DR. WILHELM ZINSSER OF WIESBADEN.
Jacobi, New York :
Herzliche Glueckwuensche.
Zinsser.
FROM PROFESSOR RAHFUSS, OF ST. PETERSBURG.
To Dr. F. E. Sondern, New York:
Professor Jacobi herzlichste Glueckwuensche zum schoenen Ehrentage von ihrem alten Freunde. Rahfuss.
LETTER FROM PROFESSOR BOKAY, OF THE BUDAPEST CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL.
Budapest, 1900, den \2ter1 April.
Hochgeehrter Herr Professor: Erlauben Sir mir, dass ich aus dem Anlasse Ihres 70 ten Geburtstage Ihnen, dem
59
hervorragenden Vertreter tmseres Faches und dem Begruender der Kinderheilkunde in Amerika nebst dem Ausdrucke meiner aufrichtigsten Verehrung meine besten Glueckwuensche aus der Feme uebersende. Ich wuensche Ihnen, dass Sie Ihre segen- reiche Thatigkeit zum Wohle der leidenden Menschheit noch lange bei voller Kraft und ungestoerter Gesundheit fortsetzen moegen, und hoffe dass Sie Ihre hochgeschaetzte Freund- schaft mir und dem unter meiner Leitung stehenden Spitale auch weiterhin bewahren werden.
Im Namen des Budapester Stefanie-Kinderspitals.
Professor T. Bokay.
FROM DR. W. W. KEEN, PRESIDENT OF THE AMERICAN MEDICAL
ASSOCIATION.
My Dear Dr. Jacobi : I do not know any man in the profession in this country who is more respected than yourself. Coming as a stranger to a foreign land, you have risen by the sheer force of " virtue," both in the English and Latin sense, to the highest rank in the profession. Your career certainly must be a stimulus to every young man of merit who has an honorable ambition to rise.
Though coming late, I trust that my tribute will be none the less welcome to you, for I assure you that it is none the less sincere and spontaneous than any other which you have received.
With very kind regards, I am,
Very sincerely,
W. W. Keen.
FROM DR. WEIR MITCHELL.
Philadelphia, April 27, 1900. Dr. A. G. Gerster.
Dear Dr. Gerster : I cannot let my friend's hour of honor pass without a further word from me. In hot haste I have written a few unworthy verses, and find in my over- Co
crowded life no time to better them. If they were as good as my honest affection could desire, they would more fitly suit the time and honor the man. Yours truly,
Weir Mitchell.
FROM THE HONORABLE J. G. SCHURMAN, PRESIDENT OF CORNELL UNIVERSITY.
Ithaca, N. Y., April 25, 1900. Dr. A. G. Gerster, Chairman.
Dear Sir : I regret that my other engagements make it absolutely impossible to join you in the dinner to be given Dr. Jacobi on Saturday evening, May 5th, on the celebration of his seventieth birthday, and in recognition of the valuable services which he has rendered to the community as a distin- guished scientist and a good citizen.
Yours very truly,
J. G. Schurman.
FROiM DR. WILLIAM H. DRAPER.
New York, May 5, 1900. To Dr. A. Jacobi :
My Dear Jacobi : It is a matter of sincere regret to me that I cannot be with you this evening to unite with your many friends in honoring the happy anniversary. You and I have been together for many years of professional life, through many interests, sorrows and joys, and I wish that it had been possible for me to " take a cup of kindness yet for the days of Auld Lang Syne."
My faithful friendship is with you — admiration for your character and achievements, deep respect for that catholic mind, which has been of such value in the professional life of this great cosmopolitan city.
And finally, my dear old friend, the good wishes and
affectionate thoughts that come from the intimate confidence
of many years. Yours always,
Wm. H. Draper. 61
FROM DR. GEORGE V. N. DEARBORN.
Harvard University,
Boston, April 22, 1900.
Arrangements Committee, Jacobi Banquet.
Gentlemen : I cannot well attend the banquet to Professor Jacobi, much as I would like to express thereby my admiration and love for one of America's greatest and noblest men.
His clinical lectures form one of the most previous mem- ories of my years in the College of Physicians and Surgeons.
What a host of New York men and women owe their lives to him !
May he live many years yet, that the world may honor him. Sincerely,
George V. N. Dearborn.
FROM DR. I. N. DANFORTH.
Chicago, April 20, 1900. A. G. Gerster, M.D.
Dear Dr. Gerster : I regret exceedingly that I shall be unable to attend the complimentary dinner to Dr. Jacobi on May 5th. It is a richly deserved compliment. No nobler specimen of the ideal American physician than Abraham Jacobi lives to-day. His long, useful and honorable pro- fessional life has been a continuous benediction to his pro- fessional confreres and to his patients — and I may add, with perfect truth, to his fellow citizens.
With all best wishes for the honored guest, and for the brilliant galaxy of honorable hosts, I am,
Sincerely yours,
I. N. Danforth.
FROM MR. OSWALD OTTENDORFER.
New York, March 14, 1900. A. G. Gerster, M.D.
Dear Sir: I will not, in consequence of my poor health,
62
be able to take an active part in the work of the Committee, but will do all in my power to make the occasion a hearty- manifestation of the high regard in which Dr. Jacobi is held by the whole community.
Respectfully yours,
Oswald Ottendorfer.
FROM DR. WILLIAM AUSTIN MACY.
Willard State Hospital, Willard, N. Y., April 16, 1900. A. G. Gerster, M.D., Chairman.
My Dear Dr. Gerster : Your announcement of the din- ner that is being gotten up for Dr. A. Jacobi is received. In reply I would state that I regret very much that I cannot see my way clear to being present at this dinner.
I have always admired Dr. Jacobi very much, and trust that nothing will interfere to prevent the carrying out of the programme which your committee has arranged, and which I feel sure will be a most enjoyable occasion, and one which will give much pleasure to Dr. Jacobi, because of the opportunities that it will afford for so many in the profession to remind him of the respect and the good-will that the other members of the medical profession bear towards him.
Very sincerely yours,
Wm. Austin Macy.
FROM THE HONORABLE EVERETT P. WHEELER.
New York, May 2, 1900. A. G. Gerster, M.D., Chairman.
Dear Sir : I have delayed answering your invitation to attend the dinner to Dr. Jacobi on his seventieth birthday, thinking that I might be able to attend, but I am called out of town on business, and therefore must send my regrets.
With cordial congratulations to Dr. Jacobi on this joyful occasion, and high appreciation of his services to humanity, I am, Yours very truly,
Everett P. Wheeler. 63
FROM THE HONORABLE EDWARD M. SHEPARD.
New York, May 4, 1900. To Dr. A. Jacobi.
Dear Dr. Jacobi : It is a grief to me that I am to be unable to be present at the dinner, and to there join in the con- gratulations which you will receive upon the honors you have won, and in the expressions of gratitude for the long service you have rendered your profession, and, still more, our country, in exalting the standard of professional life. A per- emptory and sudden business call compels me to be in Ithaca to-morrow, and I cannot return until Sunday morning.
With my very best wishes that your happiness, and the happiness of those near to you, may be commensurate with what you have done for all of us, believe me,
Faithfully yours,
Edward M. Shepard.
FROM PROFESSOR OGDEN N. ROOD, OF COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
New York, May 4, 1900. Dr. A. G. Gerster.
Dear Sir : To my great regret I find that I shall be un- able to join the body of distinguished New Yorkers who assemble on Saturday evening to honor their truly great and noble friend, Dr. Abraham Jacobi.
It is but rarely that gatherings of this nature can have as deep a significance as in the present case, for the reason that the world possesses but few men who are as truly worthy of such tributes. Please present my heartfelt congratulations to your honored guest, and believe me,
Most sincerely yours,
Ogden N. Rood.
FROM PROFESSOR MORTIMER L. EARLE, OF BARNARD COLLEGE.
New York, May 1, 1900. A. G. Gerster, M.D.
My Dear Sir : I am very sensible of the honor you have
64
done me in inviting me to take part in the complimentary sub- scription dinner to be given to Dr. Jacobi on the 5th inst. My high respect and admiration for Dr. Jacobi's eminent character and abilities make me regret exceedingly that I find it impos- sible to be present among his friends on this occasion, and to contribute my small part towards this well- deserved expression of esteem. As a grandson of a physician who gave his life for the cause of humanity, I cherish a warm regard for the noble representatives of the noblest of the professions. Believe me, Very truly yours,
Mortimer Lamson Earle.
FROM DR. R. H. FITZ.
Bostox, Mass., April 18, 1900. A. G. Gerster, M.D.
Dear Sir : I regret being unable to take part in the dinner to Dr. Jacobi, especially as I have held him in the highest esteem for many years. His life has seemed to me a praiseworthy example of constant, honest and earnest striving for the best, whether attainable or beyond reach. * Yours sincerely, R. H. Fitz.
FROM DR. FRANK J. JOHNSON.
Chicago, III., April 24, 1900. A. G. Gerster, M.D.
Dear Sir : Your kind invitation to participate in the celebration of Dr. Jacobi's seventieth birthday is received.
My short acquaintance with Dr. Jacobi a few years ago marks one of the brighter spots of the past.
It would be a great privilege and an honor to be present. I regret exceedingly that I cannot be in New York at that time. Very truly yours,
Frank J. Johnson.
65
FROM DR. ALFRED STILLE.
Philadelphia, Pa., April 17, 1900. Dr. A. G. Gerster :
Dear Sir : It would give me pleasure to be one of Dr. Jacobi's professional colleagues to do him the honor which is proposed in the celebration of his seventieth birthday, were it not that in the interval between his age and mine my in- firmities have so much increased that I dare not wander far abroad. I can only send him my hearty congratulations on having so far exceeded the patriarchal age in undiminished force of body and mind, and that his evening of life shall be as fruitful of good, in production and character, as in the long period in which he became one of the intellectual ornaments of his adopted city. Yours very truly,
Alfred Stille.
FROM PROFESSOR F. H. GIDDINGS, OF COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY.
New York, Marcli 28, 1900. A. G. Gerster, M. D. , Chairman.
My Dear Sir : I sincerely share in the congratulations that will be offered to Dr. Jacobi on this occasion, and I desire to express to him through the Committee my deep apprecia- tion of the great services that, as physician, scientific investi- gator and citizen, he has tirelessly rendered through many years to this community and to the American people.
Very truly yours,
Franklin H. Giddings.
FROM DR. WILLIAM E. DOLD.
Lake Geneva, Wis., April 16, 1900. Arpad G. Gerster, M.D., Chairman.
Dear Doctor : The invitation to attend a complimentary subscription dinner in honor of Dr. A Jacobi has reached me, and has caused both pleasure and regret. I am happy to know that one who has done so much for his fellow-men in New
66
York is to be thus signally honored by them. I regret that other engagements prevent me from participating in the exer- cises. Every medical man in New York should consider it a privilege to do honor to such a man as A. Jacobi. With sincere good wishes, dear Doctor, I am,
Faithfully Yours,
William E. Dold.
FROM DR. WILLIAM S. ELY.
Rochester, N. Y., May 2, 1900. Dr. A. G. Gerster,
Chairman Arrangements Committee.
My Dear Doctor : I have deferred acknowledging the polite invitation of the General Committee to attend the sub- scription dinner in honor of Dr. Jacobi on May 5th, hoping that I would be able to accept the invitation.
Greatly to my regret, I now find that an imperative engage- ment for Saturday next will make it impossibe for me to be present in New York on the day named.
There never was a time when the profession needed more than now the influence of a brilliant example to show what a physician should be, and can be, ethically, in professional, in private, and in public life. By calling attention to what Dr. Jacobi has done in the last half century in every direction in which his influence has been exerted, your Committee has rendered a public service which will be appreciated not only in New York but at distant points at home and abroad.
Again regretting that I cannot be present on what I know will be a memorable occasion, I am,
Yours very truly,
William S. Ely.
TELEGRAM FROM MR. JACOB H. SCHIFF.
Seabright, N. J., May 4, 1900. To Dr. A. Jacobi :
I much regret my inability to be this evening among those
67
who do honor to one so richly deserving the respect and good- will of his fellows. May you be spared many years yet to a community to which your work has become a blessing. I sincerely congratulate you. Jacob H. Schiff.
FROM DR. A VANDERVEER, OF ALBANY.
Albany, N. Y., May 5, 1900. Dr. Frederick E. Sondern :
Extend to Dr. Jacobi my sincerest congratulations upon his well-earned honors. Am greatly diappointed in not being with you to-night. A. Vanderveer.
FROM MR. ISAAC N. SELIGMAN.
Seabright, N. J., May 5, 1900. To Dr. A. Jacobi :
Regret unable to attend. Send you cordial congratula- tions on rounding out a most useful and eventful life.
Isaac N. Seligman.
FROM W. E. FISCHEL, OF. ST. LOUIS.
Overbrook, Pa., May 5, 1900.
To Dr. A. Jacobi : Switched off at the last minute from doing myself the honor of being with you this evening. Your friends in St. Louis know that the medical profession is better because you live, and extend to you their heartfelt congratula- tions, and the sincere wish that at eighty you may be as well preserved as you are at seventy. W. E. Fischel.
68
SUBSCRIBERS TO THE DINNER.
Samuel P. Avery Gorham Bacon Albert Volkenberg William Dean Howells Maus R. Vedder Carter S. Cole John E. Weeks Ferdinand C. Valentine A. Brayton Ball C. E. Billington Daniel S. Lamont Joseph B. Bissell Reginald H. Sayre C. E. Bruce Albert H. Buck H. A. Haubold Francis P. Kinnicutt Edward M. Shepard G. Schlegel George G. Hopkins Edwin R. A. Seligman T. Gaillard Thomas Henry Holt Horace White V. P. Gibney H. A. Fairbairn William L. Strong Charles A. Leale J. Henry Fruitnight Wm. D. Garlock,
Littlefalls, N. Walter Lester Carr
R. Abrams
A. J. Bilhoefer
Jean F. Chauveau
John W. Brannan
Joseph D. Bryant
Abram S. Hewitt
S. Baruch
Charles W. Packard
Isaac Adler
W. P. Northrup
Alfred Meyer
J. Arthur Booth
A. Brothers
Max Einhorn
Edward B. Dench
Henry Koplik
S. A. Rodenstein
Frederick Kammerer
Lewis Mann Silver
Walter F. Chappell
E. B. Bronson
E. F. Brush, Mt. Vernon, N.Y.
Arnold Burkelman
L. Duncan Bulkley
John F. Erdmann
Beverley Robinson
James W. McLane
John Byrne
A. Ernest Gallant
George McAneny
Joseph Larocque
Herbert F. Williams
69
O 4
John B. Walter Francis Huber G. A. Spalding Arthur Von Briesen M. L. Rhein W. K. Kubin \ F. Lange
H. F. Kudlich
George Montgomery Tuttle
Gustav H. Schwab
Gustav Langmann
everitt herrick
Abbott Hodgman
Henry Griswold
Egbert Le Fevre
J. B. Knapp
A. Alexander Smith
George Ryerson Fowler
Jacob Meyer
Horace E. Deming
Emil Mayer
George Tucker Harrison
M. R. Richard
E. G. Janeway
Wm. H. Welch, Baltimore, Md.
Edward Freidenberg
Eugene Hodenpyl
Herman Goldenberg
Henry W. Berg
A. V. Moschcowitz
Simon Sterne
R. Van Santvoord
Leonard Weber
Walter R. Gillette
W. B. De Garmo
Samuel L. Landsman
Bernard Zurighaft
M. C. O'Brien
Henry Villard
Cyrus J. Strong Floyd M. Crandall Frederick J. Leviseur Louis Fischer J. R. Nilsen William A. Valentine Clement Cleveland Charles L. Dana Hiram N. Vineberg James Pedersen Arnold Sturndorf Lewis A. Coffin J. Douglas Nisbit Frederic E. Sondern Louis L. Seaman Julius Rudisch Henry J. Wolf G. Seligmann George B. Fowler S. J. Meltzer David Webster Andrew H. Smith
A. E. M. Purdy Henry Heiman Joseph Collins Herman M. Biggs Edward K. Dunham
B. Sachs Jacob Teschner B. F. Curtis George M. Miller
A. Rose
B. M. Feldman Henry S. Norris H. G. Piffard Arpad G. Gerster Carl Beck William Balser Rufus P. Lincoln
70
George T. Eliot Paul F. Munde Willy Meyer Dillon Brown Leonard S. Rau D. B. St. John Roosa Rowland G. Freeman August Zinsser Carl Roller Charles MacVeagh Carl Schurz J. E. Janvrin Herman Knapp Joseph Fraenkel Meyer Katzenberg Charles Collins William F. Cushman
Lakewood, N. J. Abraham Mayer
R. F. Weir
Francis J. Quinlan
G. H. Balleray
Florian Krug
Ralph A. Parsons
Sing Sing, N. Y.
Lewis S. Pilcher
B. Lapowski
Samuel Gluck
Joseph H. Senner
S. A. Knopf
Albert Kohn
William B. Anderton
Jose M. Ferrer
Felix Cohn
J. S. Waterman
M. J. Jackson
J. Riddle Goffe
John Horn
J. A. Irwin
George W. Jacoby
Henry M. Silver
Emil Gruening
Samuel Alexander
Markar G. Dadirrian
George Bayles, Orange, N. J.
Charles H. Knight
f. w. wunderlich
Ralph Waldo
A. L. Goodman
Carlo Savini
Seth Low
Ferdinand S. McHale
Herman L. Collyer
Clarence C. Rice
E. Libman
Henry L. Elsner
George L. Peabody
Samuel Rapp
Hans Kudlich, Hoboken, N. J.
A. D. Rockwell
H. M. Hurd, Baltimore, Md.
N. S. Westcott
L. Bolton Bangs
Henry Moeller
Robert S. Morris
Nathan Jacobson
C. A. Von Ramdohr Alfred M. Strouse S. Beach Jones
D. H. Goodwillie L. E. La Fetra Charles H. May N. E. Brill Solomon Solis Cohen,
Philadelphia J. H. Frankenberg Felix Nordemann H. F. Nordeman
7i
A. Wolff
Hugo Wesendonck Robert Fletcher
Washington, D. C. H. J. Garrigues
C. A. Herter Alfred K. Hills
T. Mitchell Prudden
Julius Kahn
Isaac Townsend Smith
D. Froehlich Meyer Jonasson Antonio Knauth Franz Boas Otto H. Kahn
J. H. Musser, Philadelphia, Pa.
Benno Loewy
Jacob W. Mack
J. D. Lange
C. H. Richard Jordan
Max Wesendonck
G. E. Brewer
William Demuth
Augustus Caille
Isaac N. Seligman
Ira Davenport
C F. Kremer
Herman C. Kudlich
John S. Billings
Duff G. Maynard
B. Beniecke Alexander Hadden Brooks H. Wells R. W. Taylor
W. E. Fischel, St. Louis, Mo. W. Schoonover A. T. Bristow Joshua M. Van Cott Morris Manges
Edgar B. Grier,
Elizabeth, N. J. Howard Lilienthal Herman Ridder Ira Van Giesen Everett M. Culver
F. H. Davenport,
Boston, Mass. Edwin Sternberger Henry Hun, Albany, N. Y. J. I. Livingston E. A. Tucker V. H. Jackson
G. Bernheim
Oswald Garrison Villard William C. Lusk Ernst Schottky Joseph Kucher R. A. Wylie G. H. Wynkoop
GUSTAV G. FlSCHLOWITZ
Edward J. Ill, Newark, N. J. Victor Mravlag,
Elizabeth, N. J. L. Emmet Holt T. M. Rotch, Boston, Mass. J. B. Walker,
Philadelphia, Pa. William G. Davies S. Lustgarten William Benj. Wood A. F. Brugman W. L. Estes,
S. Bethlehem, Pa. Stephen Smith George Theodore Mundorff W. J. Brunner E. J. Ware
H. J. SCHIFF
72
Charles A. Valadier J. Henry Guntzer Otto L. Mayer G. M. Edebohls
JUDSON DELAND,
Philadelphia, Pa. Samuel B. Ward,
Albany, N. Y. Samuel M. Brickner Peter M. Wise Frederic Cromwell Henry F. Walker S. Wier Mitchell,
Philadelphia, Pa. Isaac Stern oswald ottendorfer Ogden M. Rood
E. Asiel
Charles F. Chandler Frank Hartley Henry D. Noyes A. M. Phelps Parker Syms W. I. Kudlich William Brookfield Joseph Huber R. C. Newton,
Montclair, N. J. Edward D. Fisher
F. H. Wiggin James R. Lathrop F. B. Merchant Wolff Freudenthal Guido Katzenmeyer William A. Anthony Arthur Lyman Fisk W. R. Warren
t. n. holden Franz Torek
William B. Coley
Allen M. Thomas
William F. Fluhrer
Albert Lipman
Dexter D. Ashley
Edward Uhl
Edward A. Smith
C. F. McGahan, Aiken, S. C.
Edwin B. Cragin
Charles S. Fairchild
James S. Green,
Elizabeth, N. J. F. Tilden Brown W. H. Luckett Thomas P. Scully,
Rome, N. Y. Charles Clifford Barrows John N. Basset, Jr.,
Canton, N. Y. John S. Kennedy Bernard Sour George Meyers F. S. Mandlebaum Julius Meyer Walter B. James W. M. Polk Leroy M. Yale A. Mona Lesser F. S. Dennis William Maddren Dayid Willcox I. E. Atkinson,
Baltimore, Md. J. Wilson Poucher,
Pougtikeepsie, N. Y. C. E. Simons J. Edward Stubbert,
Liberty, N. Y. John P. Munn
73
Charles Goodwin Jennings, Detroit, Mich. Leon Louria Robert Offenbach Carlos F. Macdonald Louis J. Ladinski George Macculloch Miller Edward Quintard
E. L. Meierhof
H. Beekman Delatour J. E. Stillwell William Osler,
Baltimore, Md. A. Hinze,
Minneapolis, Minn. Jacob Schoenhof Adolph Werner Robert H. Babcock Joseph Brettauer Theodore Meyer William H. Thomson William Zinsser T. M. Markoe
F. H. Markoe David Franklin W. H. Campbell ,
Colorado Springs, Col. W. C. Guth Samuel A. Fisk,
Denver, Col. Robert Underwood Johnson Robert Abbe Theodore Kilian
R. SlEDENBURG
David B. Goldstein Algernon S. Garnett,
Hot Springs, Ark. Julian Sachs Daniel Lewis K. C. Gibson
G. F. Comstock,
Saratoga, Springs, N. Y Robert L. Watkins Benjamin Morje Roland G. Curtin,
Philadelphia, Pa. F. P. Sondern Francis Foerster
F. C. Wood gustav loeb
William Duffield Robinson, Philadelphia, Pa. Otto G. T. Kiliani Hunter McAlpin, Jr.
G. C. Weiss,
Mt. Vernon, N. Y. J. Harvie Dew Sidney D. Jacobson C. S. May C. L. Minor L. F. Bishop A. T. Banning,
Mt. Vernon, N. Y. J. Adriance Bush Charles Jewett William H. Park George F. Shrady Henry B. Jacobs,
Baltimore, Md. William Francis Campbell J. A. McCorkle Henry F. Hornbostel H. S. Drayton John P. Faure E. Eliot Harris Arnold C. Klebs,
Chicago, 111. Simon Uhlman Daniel M. Stimson Alexander Lambert
74
7^
JAN 1 3 1956